CHAPTER NINE
Ridge stood in the bathroom, soaking wet, in more ways than one. The man had tied her up, teased her, showered her, got her hot, and then leaves? God, how she wanted him. But he was holding back. She knew he wanted her, but he just runs away.
Yes, she’d been angry. The man had actually tied her up. This she just could not believe when he did it. He’d said he had to stop her. Now she remembered what he said. He cared about her and she would die out there. Finally, her good sense pushed its way past her silly emotional sense. He was right. She would never make it down in all that snow.
She finally seemed to snap out of the daze he’d left her in as she gazed around.
Her shoulders slumped as her anger dissipated along with a bit of her pride. Now since she knew they hadn’t had sex, she realized she’d envisioned it, had an all out visual fantasy and when she’d only just met him too. She covered her face with her hands. She felt like all kinds of a fool. Panting after him, offering to blow him. She again, wondered about herself and her past. Was she a slut? A nympho? Cause her actions here told her she might be.
She just needed to remember. Then this would all be over. She paused. Do I want it to be over? Her body shivered as she remembered that swipe of his hot, velvety tongue. She knew he could take her to heights of the likes she’d never known. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she saw a woman there and truly one she didn’t know, skin flushed, eyes bright, body hungry. She needed to get a grip, dammit! Releasing a breath, she pushed all the sexy things he did just now away.
Stepping forward, she opened the drawer he’d pointed to. She just needed to act normal. She rolled her eyes as she plugged the blow dryer in.
Normal? Trapped on a mountain with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen while having no memory!
She dried her hair and made her way out of the bathroom. This was a room she hadn’t seen before. Larger than hers. This had to be his room. She bit at her lip. She might find something here to tell her who he was.
“Ridge?”
Startled out of her sneaky plans, she gasped as she saw him standing by the dresser. “Dammit! Are there secret doors in the walls? How long have you been standing there?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Long enough to know you are still plotting.”
Her eyes widened. “Plotting? Plotting what?”
“Can’t say that I know that part, but whatever you’re thinking…Just know there are more men’s ties in the dressers.” He raised a brow at her.
Her eyes went beady again at the threat. “Okay.” She lifted her chin and admitted it, “I was going to snoop.”
His green eyes twinkled at her. “Snoop?”
Nodding, she decided to just come clean, “I want to find out who you are. Then maybe I will remember who I am.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Interesting theory.”
“Makes sense to me.” She tugged the towel up over her breasts. “You said I had to be coming up here to find you. So why you? You’re the one who has my answers.”
“Maybe. But I have to be careful. And the shirt was bad enough. You do know you can’t wear a towel, right?”
Feeling a bit bitter about the treatment, the teasing and the cock teasing as well, she decided to challenge him. “What if I was nudist or something? You know like I walked around naked all the time.”
The twinkle in his eyes nearly sparkled now. “Another interesting theory. So, do you feel the need to shed the towel?”
She tried to keep her expression blank. Now, he was pushing back. Dammit. Score another point for him. “So what do I wear then?” She wanted to kick herself for being such a chicken shit.
“The clothes I gave you. In the other room.”
“So this is your room then.”
He cocked a brow at her. “Not really.”
“Vague much, Harris?” Disgusted, she stepped past him heading to the door.
Chuckling, he followed right on her heels, all the way into her room.
Yeah, laugh it up, you bully. She headed to the bed and looked through the clothes. The sweats would be too long but she could roll them up. She grabbed a tee shirt. Yes, she knew he stood right behind her. Dropping the towel, she heard his intake of breath. Now she could smile. Say hello to my sweet cheeks, bully! Turning around, she opened her mouth to promptly ask him to leave.
He was gone.
Stomping her foot, she felt so frustrated. She got nowhere with this man. Then she wondered again about his ability to appear and disappear. Like a ninja, she’d observed before. Or a soldier, a highly trained soldier. The thought entered her mind and stayed there. Like is he a spy? Rolling her eyes, she knew this was silly. Locked up on a mountain with James Bond. She laughed aloud. She dressed and as she did, she went over all his actions that were unusual. Then the tattoo could be military.
Her head throbbed and she stood up rubbing her temples. A face appeared in her mind. A man’s face. Blue eyes and a warm expression. He was smiling as he said with a shrug, “To the victor goes the spoils.” Gasping at the sudden clarity of this, she sat down on the bed. Tears streamed down her face and she was startled to feel them there. “What does this mean?” Who is this man?
“Good. You’re dressed.”
Her head rose up.
Harris noted her tears and rushed over. “What is it?”
“I-I had a memory.”
He sat down next to her. “Of what?”
“A man.”
His body tensed next to hers. “Just some man or…?”
Shaking her head, she explained, “He was smiling and he seemed so familiar, he said, ‘To the victor, goes the spoils.’ Why? Why would this be what I remember?”
Harris shook his head. “Did you feel anything when you saw him?”
She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “I was crying before I even knew it.”
“So he is important.”
Blinking her eyes, she gazed over at him. “You said there were only a few who knew that phrase. That knew about the tat. He has to be one of them.”
Harris nodded. “Maybe.”
She stood up. “You need to clue me in. You need to tell me what you know!”
He sighed. “I-I can’t. I—”
“Dammit, Harris! You need to help me here.”
He studied her. “Tell me what he looked like.” The green in his eyes had darkened.
Shrugging, she stared down at her hands. “Blue eyes, dark hair. Handsome I would say, and he was smiling.”
“And you say he had this tattoo?” Harris stood up as he asked.
“I don’t know if he does…” Her gaze rose to see his thunderous expression. “What is it?”
“The other people who had this tattoo, who knew our phrase…”
“Yes?” She stood up feeling excitement that he was finally going to tell her what he’d been hiding.
“They’re all dead,” he stated in a cold voice.
“What?”
He turned away. “All of them are dead.”
“B-but how do you know that?” Her stomach clenched and her chest hurt at this statement.
“Because I was there.” His voice was deadly quiet.
“NO! So he’s dead?”
He turned back to her. “I’m afraid so and the man you described that would be Tanner.” He watched her face closely.
The name wasn’t familiar. “I never heard the name before.”
He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have been his real name.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t get it?”
“Exactly. You won’t either till your full memory returns. Now that you have had a bit of it return. It probably means you will remember all of it.” He went out through the doorway.
“Wait!” Ridge followed. “Where are you going?”
“To get a drink,” he growled.
She caught up with him at the bar. “But I’ve never seen you drink before.”
He grunted and slammed a bottle on the bar.
Jumping a bit, she stared at his still thunderous expression. “Tell me. Tell me about it!”
“I’m gearing up to do just that. It’s why I need a drink.” He unscrewed the cap and filled a glass. Then he filled another.
“Oh—I don’t know if…” Her eyes met his to see a glint in them and her voice faded away.
“To get the truth you are going to have to drink with me,” he stated in a tone that sounded final.
Letting out a breath, she nodded. “Okay. Have it your way, but whiskey?” She scrunched up her nose.
His expression changed to one of curiosity. “How do you know you don’t like whiskey?”
Shrugging, she shook her head. “It just sounds gross to me…I don’t know really.”
He sighed. “Okay, so you’re a wine spritzer kind of girl?”
Ridge rolled her eyes. “How the hell do I know?”
He fished around in the small bar fridge. Then plopped one of those orange juice bottles on the bar. Swinging around, he grabbed the vodka. “Screwdriver it is.”
She nodded.
“Cause I know you like OJ.” He poured the juice and added vodka. Pushing the glass over to her, he nodded.
“No. I need ice.”
His gaze rose to hers. “I’m not your damn bartender.”
She grinned. “I don’t know. By the way you move back there, I think you have bartended.”
“How did you know that?”
“I don’t… I mean you do move like one.”
“Interesting.” He produced an ice cube and dropped it into her glass. “There… princess.”
She huffed. “Just cause I wanted ice?”
He grinned at her.
Raising the glass, she blurted, “You have the most wonderful smile. I prefer it over that angry gloomy look.”
He stared at her. “You just say what you think don’t you?”
Shrugging, she replied, “I guess? I don’t seem to have a filter or stop sign. I bet I got into all kinds of trouble in my life.”
Taking a long drink of his whiskey, he then poured some more. “I bet. Look at where you are now.”
She laughed as she took another sip.
“Climbing a mountain, in a blizzard, with two hit men behind you.”
Her gaze swung up. “H-hit men?”
He nodded. “Yep. That is what they were.”
“How do you know?”
“Their guns. The looks of them.”
“Y-you saw them?”
“Sure, before they got swallowed up by the avalanche.” He drank another glass full. “Ahhh. Now I feel a bit better.”
Draining her drink, she set her glass down with a hard clunk. “So talk, mister.”
He swung his gaze up at her. “Since when do you get to give orders?”
Chuckling, she shrugged. “Maybe I get more mouthy when I drink?”
Tilting his head back, he laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head as he grabbed more juice and liquor. “I already thought you were sassy before.”
“Oh, no.” Ridge stared at her new drink and shook her head. “You are trying to get me drunk!”
“Yep,” he answered outright. “Maybe you will loosen up and remember more.”
“And maybe…you are stalling,” she accused as she took a sip of the new drink.
He stilled. “Maybe I am. What I need to tell you isn’t pretty and it isn’t pleasant.”
“It what gives you the nightmares,” she stated simply.
Harris nodded. “Only it is a real memory. Not a dream. I keep wondering why I continue having it. Like it would change the outcome maybe?”
Ridge felt for him. “It must have been a horrible thing.”