In fact, it rather sucked.
Clearing his throat, Tony withdrew his hand and sat back in the chair. “I wish the f**ker who shot you hadn’t gotten away. I’d like to find him and wring his neck.”
“He got away? Son of a bitch.”
He gave her a startled look. She blinked.
“What?”
“Nothing, I’m just surprised you cursed.”
“Why?” She tilted her head. “I feel guilty every time I do.”
“Probably because you’ve been told not to.”
She frowned. “By you?”
“Me?” He grinned, wicked and rakish. “Not just no, hell no.”
This time she couldn’t answer his smile. “You seem to know a lot about me.”
“Yeah, well.” He looked away and ran a hand back through his hair. It left him adorably disheveled. “I know some things. Not a lot.”
“Can’t you tell me even a little? What’s my favorite color? What kind of car do I drive? Where do I work?”
He chuckled. “Slow down. You sound like Miranda.” He paused, then continued, “I don’t know your favorite color. You don’t drive. And you were…ah…between jobs.”
“You mean I was fired.”
“Something like that. Next question?”
“Tony…” Rebecca gathered her courage along with her breath. “What are we to each other?”
Tony hesitated. When he spoke, he seemed to choose his words carefully. “We only met recently. We’re good friends. You’ve been staying with me in my new apartment. We just moved in the other day.”
Friends? That was all? Maybe that explained why he could make her heart race with a smile. Had she had a crush on him? Had he even known?
“So…just friends?” she asked.
“Not just friends.” His face reddened. He fidgeted with the IV tube. When his eyes found hers, he smiled and reached out to brush his fingertips against her cheek. “But a very new couple.”
“Why did we move in together so quickly?”
He shifted in his seat. “You needed somewhere to stay. I…I needed you. I’ve always liked you. There’s always been this…connection between us. For me, it wasn’t fast enough.”
“O-oh.” Rebecca pressed a hand against her aching chest. “So you…like me?”
His eyes darkened. “More than just like, Rebecca.” The way he said her name sent a thrill through her.
She lowered her eyes, struggling for words. He twisted her up inside, until she didn’t know which way to go. “I wish I could remember all of this. I wish I could remember us.”
“I’ll do everything I can to remind you.”
She met his eyes, and felt that yearning bloom inside her again. “Remind me now, Tony. Please.”
“Rebecca.” He squeezed her hand, then slowly let go. Something flashed across his face, something almost like guilt. “The doctor said not to rush it. There’ll be time. Sleep, for now.”
He rose and moved away from her, to Miranda’s bedside. Rebecca watched as he tenderly brushed the little girl’s hair from her face. Why had he pulled away from her? What had she done? What was that guilty look for?
Sighing, she lay back down and rolled onto her side, turning her back to him. “Sure,” she mumbled. “Sleep.”
Yet she knew sleep would never come.
…
Rebecca surveyed the small apartment for the hundredth time. Same white walls. Same beige carpeting.
Same utter lack of recognition.
They’d kept her in the hospital for three days. Three days of anticipation, hoping to come home and find that one thing that would make everything click together. Three days of gentle yet entirely useless police questioning. Three days with Tony by her side, telling her everything he could to try to awaken her memory. Three days of emptiness. She’d been released this morning.
And she was still empty, without a single memory to call her own.
No. That was wrong. She had new memories, now. Memories of quiet talks late in the night, the hospital’s stillness creating a sense of intimacy. Tony had treated her so gently, as if she might break at the slightest touch. A soft kiss on the forehead here. A gentle squeeze of the hand there. She wanted his touch to be familiar, wanted it to spark some recognition.
Nothing.
She was still nothing, just a receptacle for the useless facts Tony had poured into her head.
She wandered into the kitchen. Maybe her brain needed food. Even if her brain didn’t, her stomach did. And it was telling her so, quite loudly.
As she crossed the threshold, vertigo struck her. She grabbed the edge of the counter.
“Where do you want these?”
“Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. I don’t really give a damn.”
“That’s your problem. You don’t give a damn. Only you do. You just keep trying not to, and it’s tearing you apart.”
“Not with the lectures again.”
The brief flash of memory left her dizzy. She sank down on a barstool. She and Tony had been unpacking—and arguing. Remembered after-impressions of emotion and sensation shivered through her. Desire and anger. Why had they been fighting?
The kitchen was empty of boxes now. Everything was put away, clean and in order. Had she done that?
He ripped open a box on the counter, pulled out a mug, and stripped away the protective bubble wrap before reaching for a second cup. He handled the ceramic gently. His fingers were long and masculine, but he looked as if he knew exactly how to use them to make a woman tremble.
And Rebecca did tremble. She wrapped her arms around herself. A deep chill struck her. Just one memory in the endless black…why that one? Why now?
Footsteps caused her to jerk her head up. She tried to compose herself, but Tony took one look at her and crossed to her side quickly.
“What is it?” he asked tightly. “What’s wrong? Did you remember something?”
“Yes. I’m fine. I…I had a small flashback. It’s gone now.”
Tony tensed. “What did you remember?”
Rebecca watched him from the corner of her eye. Why was he so edgy? “We were unpacking, and arguing. How long ago did we move in?”
With a smile, Tony relaxed. “Some time last week.”
“What day?”
He tipped his head back, murmuring to himself, then said, “Tuesday, I think. It was a few days before you got hurt.”
“Oh.”