The Novel Free

Rogue Rider



Nightmares had plagued her. Nightmares of demons and dying animals, of the attack in the parking lot, and worse, of Reseph leaving her.

Any day now, he was going to find out who he was and leave.

Irritated by her obsession with Reseph’s probable departure, Jillian slammed the lid on the grain barrel as the barn door opened and he entered wearing jeans and the blue Henley that matched his eyes. In his hand was a steaming mug.

“Brought you something to warm you up.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I can’t cook, but I can make a mean cup of hot cocoa.”

“Doesn’t take much to boil water and open a packet.” Even as the words fell from her lips she regretted them, and God, she kicked herself hard at the flicker of hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reseph. I didn’t mean that.” No, what she’d meant was, “Stop being so wonderful, because I’m falling for you, and I’ll be devastated when your memory comes back and you take off.”

He shrugged and handed her the cup, which made her feel even smaller. “It’s true.”

The rich chocolate aroma filled her lungs and soothed her mood. “You were being nice, and I was an ungrateful bitch.”

“Will this help?” He dug into his pocket. “I made this for you.” Very gently, he took her hand and placed a wooden carving in her palm.

Jillian stared at the tiny bird, its fine features perfectly etched across its graceful lines and curves. The wings, outspread in flight, were so thin and delicate that she was afraid to close her hand.

“Reseph, this is amazing. How long did this take you?”

One big shoulder rolled in a casual shrug. “Few days. Ah… you might want to sharpen your nice paring knife.”

“I think I can manage that.” She stroked her finger over the smooth beak. “Why a bird?”

Another shrug. “They’re free, you know? They can go anywhere they want, whenever they want. They can just spread their wings and go.”

Naturally, Reseph would gravitate toward an animal that wasn’t tied down. She wondered if he felt at all caged in here. No, she didn’t have to wonder. She knew. He was like a panther in a zoo, always pacing the fence line.

He plopped down on the barrel and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his booted feet at the ankles. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, carefully balancing the little bird on a railing and taking a sip of the cocoa to buy some time. She didn’t know how to explain, partly because she didn’t even know why she felt the way she did.

“Cocoa is good,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re stalling.”

Leave it to him to call her out. Still, she sipped again, maybe a little defiantly. Guess she was still feeling bitchy.

Finally, she cupped the mug in her cold hands and looked down at the swirling froth. “I’m afraid, Reseph.” There. She’d said it. “I hate being afraid. It goes against everything I’ve ever lived for. My parents taught me to be strong, and growing up, I was tough. I played sports and got jobs on farms instead of working at fast-food joints like my friends. When I went away to college, I made sure I was the best in all my classes. I never let fear get in the way.” She swallowed. “But now I’m afraid and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said softly. “I’m here. I won’t let another demon near you. I’ve been researching ways to construct a demon-proof perimeter, and I swear, you’ll be safe.”

Sweet Jesus, he was too good to be true. “It’s not that. It’s not the demons. I mean, they’re scary, but…” She trailed off, the hot cocoa curdling in her belly.

“But what?”

“It’s you,” she whispered. “I know you need to find out who you are, but some small part of me is afraid you will. I know it’s selfish of me, but I like who you are now.”

“I’ll still be the same man, Jillian. I’ll still be me.” He rose and started prowling around the barn, and she got the feeling he was working off frustrated energy. “And you never know… I may never remember my past.”

She watched him straighten the bridles and harnesses hanging on the walls, as if he needed something to do. “You might not get your memory back, but even if we only find out who you are, it could change things. What if you’re something we didn’t expect?”

He swung around to face her. “You said you didn’t believe I was a serial killer or something.”

“I still don’t believe that. But what if you’ve got a family? You said you’re sure you don’t have a wife, but what if you’re wrong? Or what if you’re a politician or big media mogul? Or maybe you’re the king of Oompa-Loompa Land. Just knowing where you belong will change things. And you’ll have to go.”

“Oompa-Loompa Land?” He shook his head. “No way. Orange people give me the creeps. I don’t even like fake tans. I’d never be their king.”

She laughed, but sobered quickly. His humor was one of the things she’d miss after he found out who he was and left her. God, her chest hurt already.

The stray wisps of straw on the concrete floor crunched under his boots as he walked toward her. He took the mug out of her hand and set it on a shelf, and when he swung back around to her, he took her hands. She couldn’t help but notice how small her hands looked in his.

“I can’t promise that you’ll like who I was before you found me. But I can promise that my feelings for you won’t change.” He palmed her cheek, his touch tender, and in that moment, he might as well have reached inside her and stroked her heart instead of her skin. “I know we agreed on no emotional attachments, but I can’t help it; I’m falling for you, Jillian. It’s scaring the shit out of me, because it feels so damned new.” While she stared in stunned silence, he glanced up at the rafters. “It’s strange, because some things feel familiar, like sex and using a computer. And killing that demon. It’s like when you watch a movie and there’s an actor you recognize but can’t place. You know you’ve seen him before, but you can’t remember where.” He returned his gaze to her, his eyes glittering with intensity. “But what I feel for you is so different. It’s like I’ve never seen the actor before. Hell, I haven’t even heard of the damned movie.”

Every word was a prick to the heart. He was falling for her? She should be happy, because like it or not, she was falling for him, too. But this was going to end badly. She’d never been a pessimist, but she’d danced this dance before. Not with an amnesia guy, but with every other guy she’d dated.

“You can’t promise your feelings won’t change,” she rasped. “You could love someone else.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t. I know I don’t. What I feel for you is too foreign. I’d know if I’d felt it before.”

She wanted to believe him, but there just wasn’t enough for her to go on. He didn’t remember his past, so maybe he didn’t remember emotions, either.

“Jillian, if I could guarantee that my feelings wouldn’t change and that I’d stay here no matter what, would that be a good thing?”

“You can’t—” His finger came down on her mouth, shutting her up.

“Hypothetically.”

Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around his and pulled it away. “Hypothetically, yes. It would be a good thing. I’m falling for you, too.”

In a smooth surge, he backed her against a stall and kissed her. Kissed her hard. “Jillian,” he murmured against her mouth. His voice was pained, urgent, and she knew exactly how he felt.

“Shh. I don’t want to hear promises you can’t keep or hollow assurances that everything will be okay. Let’s just make the best of the time we have.” She needed a distraction. A rough, fun escape. And Reseph could give her that. “Remember what you said a few days ago, the first time we had sex? That there would be time for f**king on the hood of my truck or… other things?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember.”

“Good.” She dragged her hand down his chest to his fly, behind which a pronounced bulge already indicated that he was game. “I think it’s time.”

“Yeah?” A wicked smile ruffled his mouth as he leaned into her and put his lips to her ear. “How long has it been since you came so hot, so furious, so f**king intense, that you forgot your own name?”

Oh, God. She’d just forgotten it. “Never,” she whispered. “You?”

“I can’t remember,” he murmured huskily, “but ask me in a few minutes and I’ll have an answer.” He tugged her against him and kissed her. His lips were firm but soft as they melded with hers. She opened to him immediately, but he teased her, taking her bottom lip in his teeth in a gentle show of dominance. A shiver of pleasure skated over her skin. He was an explosive combination of playful but aggressive, tender but strong, commanding but caring… and so very, very male.

Reaching up, she cupped his jaw, savoring the feel of his warm skin under her palm as he kissed his way down her neck. He nuzzled her throat, and with a moan, she rocked her head to the side, granting him more access for that talented mouth. One of his hands remained tamely around her waist, holding her against him, but the other slid beneath her shirt. When his fingers came into contact with her bare belly, she hissed in pleasure.

“I love the sounds you make.” His voice was a smoky drawl. “I’m going to wring them from you until you’re out of breath.”

Her heart pounded so hard it hurt, as if it were trying to get to his hand, which was sliding torturously slowly up her rib cage. He nipped her shoulder blade as his fingertips brushed the underside of her breast, creating an electric sizzle that shot from his mouth to his hand. Sensation rippled through her, stealing her thoughts, her breath, the moisture in her mouth.
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