“I don’t need protecting, damn it!” Even if right now, she felt so fragile she might crumble into pieces. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them close, as if she could compensate for the loss of his warm embrace. It wasn’t helping. “What are you so afraid of? Will you just tell me the truth?”
He took a deep breath. The heat of his hand pressed to her back, branding her through her shirt. “I’m afraid you’ll leave me,” he admitted, voice strained. “I’m afraid of that moment when you’ll remember everything, and you’ll walk away from me. I won’t stop you, if you do. That’s your choice. But the thought alone scares the shit out of me.”
“I don’t understand.” She stole a glance at him from the corner of her eye. The wretched look on his face left an empty, painful feeling in her chest. “Why would I leave you?”
“I haven’t given you much reason to stay. I—I’m not this great guy you seem to think I am. I’m just me.”
“I like ‘just you.’ Why were you good enough before I lost my memory, but not now?”
Tony’s hand stroked over her back with soothing strength, then withdrew. He stood, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Because I was a different person before that. After you were hurt, I came to some pretty ugly realizations about myself.” He looked at her. “I care about you, Rebecca. Which is why I won’t ruin your life by doing anything impulsive.”
“I’m not asking for anything impulsive right now. I got the signal loud and clear.” She bit the inside of her lower lip until it hurt, but it wouldn’t stop her eyes from filling. “All I want is for you to stop running away if I dare to touch you. Is that too much to ask?”
His face fell. “No, sweetheart. It’s not too much. I’m sorry. This is entirely new ground for me, and I’m fumbling more often than not.”
She smiled weakly. “If you’re fumbling, maybe you should join the Cowboys.”
He laughed, and the stifling tension eased until Rebecca could breathe again. She uncurled herself from her ball and offered her hand.
“Just…come hold me? That’s all I need. I promise I won’t try to get past first base.”
“You have no idea how twisted it is for me to be on this side of the conversation.” He sank down onto the couch again. Rather than take her hand, he looped an arm around her waist and tugged her roughly against his side. With a murmur, he pressed his lips into her hair. “What have you done to me, woman?”
“Sure, blame it on me.” She tucked herself against him and pillowed her head on his chest. She fit so perfectly into the crook of his arm, as if he’d been made for her. “Typical male. Like my sport. Root for my team. Take the blame.”
“I keep trying to tell you I’m a jackass, and you won’t listen.”
“I may be changing my mind.”
He chuckled and rested his chin to the top of her head. “Too late. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you might even love me, Rebecca Chance.”
You might be right, she thought and, closing her eyes, listened to the sound of his heartbeat. She wondered if she’d ever done this before. If she’d loved it as much then as she did now. If she’d relaxed into the rhythm of Tony’s breaths, and wrapped herself up in this moment of heaven.
She almost didn’t want her memories back. Not if they would ruin this. She loved this Tony. Her Tony. Yet the guilt in his eyes, the fear, plagued her. What had he done, that he was so certain she’d leave him?
And why was she afraid to find out?
Chapter Eight
Angel rule #8: Face your charge head-on. Do not fail.
Rebecca stretched with a luxuriant yawn. The crisp cotton sheets, warmed by body heat, slid against her naked skin. Mmm…why was she naked, again?
Oh. Right.
Tony.
Stupid Tony, sleeping on the couch again.
Fully awake now, she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains in gentle shafts, painting shifting patterns on the ceiling. She’d woken up to this ceiling for seven days now.
And every day, she’d woken up alone.
She’d tried coaxing. Tried promising she’d just wanted to snuggle. She’d even tried wearing him out with a game of clumsy, no-holds-barred touch football in the apartment complex’s side yard, then nudging him toward the bedroom when he was too tired to protest. Nothing had worked—including her most recent ploy.
Sleeping naked, and hoping he was thinking with the little head below the waist.
If he touched her first, it wasn’t breaking her promise, right?
It was embarrassing, really, how deeply she burned for him. One hot glance, an easy curve of his sensuous lips, could send her nervous system into overdrive in a matter of seconds. She had too much pride to throw herself at him again, but she could at least admit he made her want to.
More than just his sinful body and smoldering eyes, it was the way he treated her. Every day he lavished her with affection, attentive and warm. He asked after her every need. He prompted her gently with small reminders of her life, little things she might remember. He treated her as if she and Miranda were the only important things in his life, and with each passing hour she fell more and more in love with him.
But he refused to cross that line, and let her truly be with him. Refused to even try, even if the shock of pleasure might unlock another memory. Sex was such a deeply seated, intimate thing, so personal. So unique to the two people involved. Even if they’d never made love before, the way he’d kissed her in the kitchen gave her good reason to believe they’d gotten rather far in the past. That sizzle of chemistry had felt so familiar—and if she found that intimacy with him again, that closeness that belonged to them and them alone, it could be just what she needed to shine a light into the darkened recesses of her mind.
Rebecca sighed and flopped an arm across the empty side of the bed. Not just empty. Cold. No, he hadn’t snuck in for even a moment. The sheets were smooth and unrumpled. Again. Tony Weis, gentleman extraordinaire, noble and chivalrous to the end.
Fuck chivalry.
The moment she thought it, she winced. Cursing still gave her that maddening little twinge, and it drove her crazy not knowing why. Everything drove her crazy, lately. Her memory. The fact that she should be out looking for a job to help Tony with the expenses, not living on his charity. The daily hospital visits to check the healing fracture in her skull. The doctors treating her like she was made of glass, and very carefully avoiding the fact that she should have regained more than a few brief flashes of memory by now.