“YOU DON’T HAVE to stay here with me. I’m okay,” Monica loaded the last dish into the dishwasher and pushed power. “Tell your mother thanks for sending over food for dinner.”
“I know I don’t have to stay, but I want to. Do you want to talk about it?”
Her back was ramrod straight and her chin had a stubborn tilt. They’d eaten in silence with her telling him several times that he could leave. “There’s nothing to talk about. I passed out. I’m fine now.”
“You were upset and stressed. You’d just looked at pictures of a dead man.”
She washed her hands and dried them on a dishtowel, then grabbed a damp dishrag to scrub the already spotless countertop. She had restless energy and didn’t know what to do with herself. “It’s not everyday a woman finds out she killed a man and is an escort. Having no clue what brought her to that lifestyle, she still couldn’t imagine having sex with strangers for money. What else would she find out before this was all over?
****
He shifted on the barstool, keeping his gaze locked on her. “I believe you didn’t do it.”
She stopped scrubbing to meet his gaze. “How can you be sure?”
Wow. She was gorgeous with her hair falling this way and that from the topknot, as well as the pink flush to her cheeks. He was getting hard just looking at her, and he had no right to feel this way. Hadn’t he already turned her world upside down? “We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”
“Good.”
He stared at her, his gaze frozen on her beauty. He wanted to kiss her again, to feel her defenses melt away. To feel her response to his touch. They could be good together. He knew this.
Cull’s hands shook from the constraint. He knew he must be wearing his attraction like a scarlet letter badge. The tension between them was palpable.
She looked at the counter, breaking the connection of their gazes.
His heart pounded.
“I’m going to take a shower.” He started for the bathroom and he looked back to see the curiosity on her face. “If you haven’t already figured it out, I’m staying here tonight.” Her eyes widened some. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep my hands to myself, but no way in hell will I leave you tonight.”
He made his way into the bathroom, his constraint falling away like heavy shackles. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and dragged it over his head, then eased down the zipper of his jeans, shucking them, feeling some relief in his body. He’d had a constant hard-on for days and he was beginning to believe his cock would be bruised. Sitting on the edge of the cold tub, he tried to ignore his raging dick.
Over the last week he’d gotten sidetracked from his life, his goals, as he searched for answers for Monica. How the hell had things got so twisted and turned upside down. Why did he have to have feelings for a woman who was surrounded in chaos? He blew out a long breath.
Yeah, he had feelings for her and the longer he was near her, the more deep rooted they became.
He turned on the water, more cold than hot, letting it run a few seconds before he climbed under the spray. He leaned back against the cool ceramic wall and closed his eyes, relaxing. His mind remained full of Monica, her flushed features and the way her hair brushed her cheeks. When she’d passed out, his heart had dropped to his toes. He got that this was all a bit much—no, a freaking hurricane.
Cull couldn’t get his mind off her. Man, she was beautiful, sexy and kind.
He believed in her innocence. The person who strangled Yates had to be strong enough to cut so deep that it reached the spine. He’d investigated enough deaths by strangling that this was not done by the hand of a woman.
Yet, did that make her completely innocent? No. She could have been involved and could have been a witness to the man’s death.
He washed his hair and face a little roughly wishing he could scrape away the turmoil inside his body.
Knowing how he felt, why did he tell her he was staying? Why didn’t he offer for her to stay next door in his childhood room and he’d take the bed in the apartment? He knew why. No one could protect her as well as he could, and he wanted to be near her.
Could he uphold his promise that he’d keep his hands to himself? He remembered how she felt in his arms. So soft. So right. His balls clenched despite the cold water.
A knock came on the door. He heard mumbling and opened the shower curtain wide. Monica stood in the doorway, her eyes wide.
“Oh crap. I’m sorry.” She twirled and covered her eyes.
He smiled. “It’s okay, Monica. You’ve seen a man naked before.”
“But I don’t remember,” she reminded him. “I wasn’t coming in to get a peek.”
He wondered how it was possible that she could seem so modest when in her line of work, modesty wasn’t a virtue. “I don’t mind. I guess this is turnabout fair play after I saw you naked.”
“Oh.” Through the mirror he could see her flushed profile. “I had forgotten.”
He ducked under the water again to get any remaining suds off. She still stood there with her back turned to him.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Finishing my shower.”
“Your phone rang three times so I brought it in here and put in on the sink. I thought it might be important.”
“Thank you.” He shut off the water. “Would you mind handing me a towel?”
She reached behind her, grabbed a folded towel from the rack and handed it to him, all the while keeping her eyes forward. “What are we doing here, Cull?”
“I’m drying off and you’re keeping your back to me,” he said flatly.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. I’ve been tortured before and nothing stacks up to the torture of you and I dancing around the elephant in the room.” He knew it was best just to speak honestly.
“The elephant in the room?”
“The attraction between us.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “I’ll meet you in the living room.” She closed the door.
His body was hard…again.
He closed his fingers around his shaft and squeezed firmly, stroking the firm muscle up and down, until he swelled to bursting point. What would Monica feel like? What would she feel like wrapped around him?
A lot better than his hand.
He dropped his hand and stepped out of the tub. She had him in tangles. He dragged the towel around his hips and knotted it.
When he stepped into the living room, she was asleep on the couch. Her breathing was rhythmic, and her eyes rolled under her eyelids as if she were dreaming. Did she fall asleep early so she wouldn’t have to face him?
Grabbing the soft blanket off the back of the couch, he laid it over her carefully not to disturb her.
It was for the best they didn’t face each other anymore tonight. It was hard telling what they’d do.
Slipping into his boots, he stepped outside to get a breath of fresh air. The moon was shining brightly and there were a thousand stars which helped light his way as he started down the stairs to give the property one last check before he settled in.
He hadn’t made it to the last step when he saw something white stuck in the mud from the heavy downpour. Bending over the item, he looked closer. Taking out his phone, he used the flashlight to shine on what he realized was a cigarette butt. What the hell? Could Donny have been here smoking? Cull had never known the man to wander up to the houses.
Standing, he took a quick glance around the property, not that he expected to see anyone. Obviously, the butt had been there for a while. Anger splashed through his bloodstream as he put the pieces together. Someone was here, someone who didn’t belong. Had they been watching Monica? Was it the same person who tried to kill her? All indications pointed to yes.
How did they get on the property without being seen?
How did the bastard get in?
Retracing his steps back into the apartment, he sat on the chair and readied himself to sleep in the too narrow chair all night so he could watch over her. After an hour and he still couldn’t sleep, he stood and moved to her. Without waking her, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom, carefully placing her in the middle of the bed. She mumbled something that he couldn’t understand.
He climbed in beside her and brought the cover over them and tucked his arm over her waist possessively.
“I was sleeping on the couch so you could have your bed,” she said in a sleepy voice.
“There wasn’t enough room on the couch for the both of us.”
He could feel the quick rhythm of her breathing. Would she send him to the couch? She brought her arm out from under the cover and grabbed his hand, pulling his arm tighter around her. And if that wasn’t enough, she snuggled her bottom in the curve of his hips, driving him further down that crazy road. He truly hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d only wanted to keep her close to protect her, but he wasn’t naïve or stupid.
Laying his head on the pillow next to hers, he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her hair. He couldn’t stop himself and nuzzled his chin along her neck, kissing the slender curve, enjoying the feel of their bodies lying so close. They fit so perfectly.
“I’m sorry you’re in this predicament, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“The silver lining is that I would have never met you otherwise.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Are you into call girls?”
There was a teasing lilt to her tone, so he knew she meant it lightheartedly. “When they look like you, and are you, yes, I am.”
No doubt, he could make love to her and forget the barriers between them. He could allow his hand to move over her, squeeze her breasts and unwrap her like an early Christmas present. Already he was fully hard, his body aching for release, but more than that, he wanted to offer her pleasure. He’d never much thought about giving a woman the ultimate pleasure until he met her.
Did she understand that she drove him crazy? Struck up every nerve ending and made his libido sing. He kissed her warm skin—skin that smelled so much like heaven.
She rolled over, facing him.
That heavy chemistry became thick and abrasive. She brushed her mouth over his and that was all he needed to understand that he didn’t care about her past.
He lowered his hand to the indent of her waist, making figure eights on her exposed skin with his thumb. Kissing her forehead, he wove his fingers through her hair “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. Whatever has happened in the past we’ll get through this. I promise.” His voice was strained and hollowed.
“I wish I had half your hope.”
They entwined their fingers, holding hands. Something so simple and yet meant for lovers. She kissed his cheek.
“I want more. I truly do, but I also need to keep my head on straight. I’m useless if I can’t catch the fucker who wanted you dead.” He slid his hand down her bottom, lifting her thigh so he could move his hips between her vee. Lust and frustration mingled like a torturous cocktail.
She pressed against his zipper. “Why didn’t you take your jeans off?”
“Because we need this barrier.”
She laughed lightly. “I don’t think the Berlin Wall would have been a big enough barrier.”
“You must know how much I want you,” he said on an exhale of breath.
“But I know that we can’t.” She pulled her leg away but didn’t move more than an inch. “It wouldn’t be fair for us to sleep together not knowing if I have played a role in hurting someone. We’d only be making a tough situation tougher.”
He took ahold of her chin gently. “Whether you know it or not, you have just given me a challenge. I’ll prove your innocence.” When she lowered her gaze, he said, “Look at me. Trust in me.”
“I want you to trust me too, Cull. You can’t give yourself to someone you don’t really know.”
“Roll over,” he said tightly.
Without asking why, she did as he requested and he dragged her into the spoon of his thighs. “There, less chance of either of us ignoring consequences and doing what our bodies crave.” He did his best to sound certain but inside he quavered like a leaf in a windstorm. “Relax, darling. Sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“If you want me to sleep, then you need to quit poking me.” She gave her bottom a wiggle against the bulge in his jeans.
“Stop that, sweetheart. Give this ol’ body of mine a break.” He laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I got to get out of these clothes. They’re going to cut off my circulation.” He quickly removed his clothing and came back to drag her close.
Soon, he felt his body relax and sleep overtook him, but it didn’t last long.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been snoozing when he felt the bed wiggle and Monica say, “Wake up! Wake up, Cull!”
Reacting as any lawman probably would, he jumped up, grabbed his gun from the nightstand, then asked, “What is it? Is someone in the apartment?”
“No. I have to tell you something.”
He switched on the light, seeing her worried eyes and how she worked her bottom lip. “What is it?”
“I think I have my memory back.”
****
Monica cuddled in the corner of the couch and tightened the blanket around her shoulders. Cull paced the floor and she watched him. He was wearing only a pair of jeans and they were left unbuttoned. He looked amazing, and concerned.
When he stopped to stand in front of her, he sighed. “Now, tell me again who you think you are.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what my name is but I’m not Monica Warren.” He tore a hand through his hair. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t jumping for joy. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and although I can’t remember my name and there are still some voids, but I know without a doubt that I’m not Monica.”
“Okay.” He took a seat on the edge of the couch, clasped his hands and she could see his mind working through the windows of his eyes. “Help me understand. You’re not Monica Warren. So then, what were you doing in her apartment?”
She pulled at a thread on the blanket. “I had her purse and I took it to her. Why I had it I’m not sure, but I remember going into her apartment. Then I heard a noise. Someone was there with me.”
“Who?” He lifted a thick brow.
Giving her shoulder a tight shrug, she sighed. “I-I don’t know.”
“You said you have your memory back, Mon—” he stopped as if he wasn’t sure what to call her. “Is there more? Do you have a home address so that I can verify?”
Knowing this would make it even less believable, she couldn’t stop now. “I don’t have an address. I’m sure that I was living on the streets.”
He blew out a long breath and he crossed his arms. “Homeless?”
She pushed off the blanket and scooted to the edge of the cushion to be closer to him. She touched his hand and his fingers clenched. “I know it sounds crazy, but I know it’s the truth.”
His gaze roved over her face, then came to meet her eyes. “How do you know it’s the truth?”
What could she say? She didn’t have proof. Unless…
“Think about the bag I had on me when you saved me. Would the real Monica wear any of those things? They were tattered and dirty.” Her stomach turned. She could very easily be going from one terrible situation to another.
“I had thought about that myself, but…”
“But what? I realize you need proof because you’re a lawman, but I’m telling you what I know to be the truth.”
He rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. “I want to believe you, I do, but…”
“Oh my gosh. Another but!” She jumped up from the couch. “A few hours ago, all you talked about was proving my innocence and now that I’m supplying you with the details you act like I’m asking you to jump off a cliff. What is it with you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want me to be innocent or was that just talk?”
“Monica—”
“Don’t call me that.” She tilted her chin.
He stood. “No, it wasn’t just talk. I want to prove your innocence, but none of it makes sense. You were in the apartment. You told me yourself at the hospital that your name was Monica. Why would you say that if it wasn’t true?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be the first to admit that a lot of the puzzle pieces are missing.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“I’m telling you what I know. I’m sorry that it doesn’t fit into a box with a neat red ribbon. I’m sorry that I still don’t know my name, but there are a lot of memories that haven’t come back yet. I’m sure it will in time. I was hoping you’d feel good about this too.”
He took a step toward her, but she pulled away.
“Come on.”
“No, I won’t come on. The one person who I thought had my back doesn’t at all. You think I’m a woman who prostituted and killed a man.” She grabbed the blanket and charged for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
She was for once glad that he didn’t try to speak to her.