“You don’t have to. Forcing specifics on her won’t help. Regaining your memory isn’t like studying for a test.” Dr. Peterson snorted. “Just be there for her. Try to jog her memory by showing her places and things that might remind her on her own. Her apartment. Where you had your first date. Her favorite food. Just don’t push too hard or she may shut down. It’s healthiest for her to remember on her own, with gentle reminders.”
Tony nodded. Too bad he didn’t know her favorite food. They’d never been on a date. He didn’t even know where she lived when she wasn’t being all…angel-y. For all he knew, she floated about on a white cloud and slept on dewdrops and sunbeams.
He sighed. “Thank you, Dr. Peterson.”
“Don’t worry so much, son. Your face is a study. We’ll keep Rebecca overnight, and will re-evaluate tomorrow depending on how she progresses. We’ll likely want another day of observation, just to be on the safe side.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Dr. Peterson left him there. Tony stood and stared at the door, but couldn’t go in. He had to help Rebecca. She’d saved Miranda’s life, and he owed it to her.
If only he had the damnedest clue where to start.
It wouldn’t be easy. If her most recent memories were of her mission to save him, he’d have to find some way to convince her she was an angel without sending her bolting for the nearest can of pepper spray. Could she still read his mind? She’d have to believe him, then.
He quietly stepped back into the room. Miranda remained asleep, tucked into a kittenish ball. Rebecca was sitting up against her pillows, and watched him unblinkingly. He smiled.
“Rebecca?” No flicker of recognition in her eyes, but she was listening, watching him attentively. “Look, I have some bad news. You have amnesia—” She gasped, and he raised his hand. “—but it’s only short-term. Your memories will return on their own soon, so the doctor says not to worry.”
With every word, he dredged up memories of her. Memories of how vulnerable she’d looked, pressed back against the refrigerator with that soft red mouth tempting him in wicked ways. How she could rivet him just by darting her tongue over his lips, or glancing at him sidelong with laughter in her eyes. How deeply it struck him to watch her playing with Miranda, tickling her little feet and calling her kiddo.
Nothing. Rebecca’s eyes remained blank. If she saw, felt, or heard anything, there was no indication.
Damn it.
She bit her lip. “Your name is Tony?”
“Yes.” He returned to her bedside and reclaimed his chair. He reached for her hand, but thought better of it when she flinched. “It’s okay, Rebecca. I won’t hurt you. I’m here to take care of you.”
Her brows furrowed. “Who are you?”
“Your—” Tony clamped his mouth shut. Her what? What was he? Could he really condone lying to her, even for her own good?
But if she thought he was her boyfriend, she would want to be with him. And he hadn’t earned that right, not yet. Nor could he just take it, without her fully conscious of her situation and able to give full, willing permission.
He dredged up a smile from somewhere. “Get some rest. I’ll be right back.”
Panic crumpled her pretty face. “Where are you going?”
“Just to make a phone call. You’re safe, and I won’t ever leave you.”
The words had a disturbing ring of truth.
He escaped into the hall before she could ask anything else. Like why he didn’t just use the phone on the bedside table. Groaning, Tony leaned against the wall next to the door and closed his eyes. What a mess. He should just…blurt out the truth, find a women’s shelter or some other safe place where Rebecca could receive the help she needed, and get out of her life before he caused irreparable damage.
To her, and to himself—because he wasn’t sure if he could spend days by her side, pretending to be her lover, when it would take a bigger ass**le than Tony Weis to dare lay a finger on her.
“Ahem.”
A musical voice sounded almost in his ear. He jumped and opened his eyes with a guilty flush. “Uh.”
A blond woman stared at him through icy blue eyes that hovered a bare six inches from his face, and stared into him as if she knew every naughty thought he’d had since he’d first found his dad’s stash of dirty magazines. Her beauty was otherworldly, and if he hadn’t already met a bona fide angel in training, he’d think her an angel come to earth.
The woman smiled. He stiffened. That same damn knowing smile as Rebecca’s.
Son of a bitch.
“Hello, Anthony. I’m—”
“Sally,” he croaked.
She smirked. “Smart man.”
“Fu—um, cra—er, darn it.” Just what he needed. Another mind-reading angel. He frowned. “Why are you here? Rebecca can’t leave—”
“Relax. I have no intention of taking her from you. Dropping her back into the middle of her training without her memory would be entirely too traumatic.”
“You were eavesdropping on the doctor and me.”
Her eyes glittered. “Invisibility does have its benefits.”
“Then you know I’m all she has. You can’t take her away. You shouldn’t even see her. She’ll probably freak out.”
Or even worse, she’d remember Sally and leave him, without even giving him a chance.
“I see.” Sally’s eyes narrowed. “I wonder, dear Anthony, if you’ve grown too fond of our Rebecca. You seem quite protective of her, even though you must know I mean no harm.”
Tony fidgeted and avoided her penetrating stare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s just a…a friend.”
The angel cocked her head. She had that same searching look Rebecca often had when she was probing his mind. Somehow the idea of torturing Sally with his less puritan thoughts wasn’t as exciting or amusing as tormenting Rebecca.
Sally clicked her tongue. “Well. Perhaps if she remembers me, I can take her off your hands. Her duty here is complete. You’ve no further obligation to her.”
“What?” Tony felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s it? It’s over? How can you be sure? I might still decide to kill someone.”
“Not likely,” Sally replied with chilly amusement. “The threat has been removed. By saving Miranda, Rebecca prevented an event that would have driven you to murder.”