Janelle Denison: The Ultimate Seduction

It seemed a good night's rest hadn't made any difference, and she couldn't stop the niggling sense of unease that trickled through her. Before her anxiety could spring into full-blown panic, she calmed herself with the knowledge that she'd been through a traumatic accident and the certainty that things would become clearer as the day progressed.

A soft, snoring sound pulled her from her disturbing thoughts. With a frown, she turned her head, glanced down and found a man slumped forward in a chair at the side of her bed, his dark head and brawny arms resting on the mattress near her hip.

Another snuffling sound escaped him, and she smiled, recognizing that tousled sable hair and the strong, gorgeous profile as Noah's. It appeared he'd fallen asleep while watching over her, and the caring gesture warmed her deep inside.

A brief recollection flashed inside her head, of Noah's lips on hers and a wild, deep kiss unlike anything she'd ever indulged in. She knew Noah, and along with that certainty came the knowledge that he made her feel safe, secure and desired. But she had no idea where he fit into her life. Was he her boyfriend? Lover? Friend? Judging by the awareness and intimate longing swirling within her, she was guessing that he was much more than a casual acquaintance.

Stretching her arm out, she gently threaded her fingers through his hair, the thick strands cool and silky to the touch. She caressed her hand along the dark, bristly whiskers on his cheek and jaw, trying to recall if she'd ever been abraded by that sexy morning stubble. His lips were parted and looked so warm and soft. So inviting. She couldn't resist testing the feel of them for herself, and she wasn't disappointed in the silky, seductive texture her fingertips encountered.

His lashes drifted open as he gradually awakened, his dark blue eyes at first unfocused. God, he was so sinfully sensual, so deliciously good-looking, he literally took her breath away.

The charming grin she expected to see never appeared. Instead, he slowly lifted his head and stared at her cautiously, warily searching her gaze as if he wasn't sure what to expect from her. Odd, she thought.

Regardless, his presence soothed her, grounded her, and she was grateful that she hadn't woken up alone. "Hi, there," she said, her voice husky from slumber and thirst.

He swallowed hard, then finally graced her with that sexy smile that never failed to jump-start her pulse. That exciting tingling through her veins was an incredibly nice way to greet the morning, though she couldn't ever recall waking up with this man next to her.

Not that it had or hadn't happened. She just couldn't- remember. Her mind felt muddled, foggy and disoriented, and the inability to grasp any kind of clear recollection of them frustrated her.

"Hi, yourself, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone low and rough.

Sweetheart. Yeah, she definitely liked the sound of that. And she knew that he'd used that sentiment with her before.

He straightened in his seat, then stretched his arms over his head to loosen the kinks that had no doubt cramped parts of his body due to his awkward sleeping position. Muscles flexed beneath his T-shirt and along his arms as he arched his back and reached high. He groaned in relief, and she enjoyed every bit of the male display.

"You snore," she said in amusement.

"I'm sorry." He cringed at that bit of information, instantly contrite. "Did I wake you?"

"No, actually it was a cute snore and not at all obnoxious."

He laughed, the rumbling sound sending a pleasant vibration along her nerve endings. "Well, it's certainly good to know that you think my snores are cute, but don't tell anyone else because, for one thing, I'll never hear the end of it and, for another, it'll be a huge blow to my masculinity."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." She smiled, curious to know if they shared any other private intimacies. "I need something to drink. Is there any water?"

"Sure is." He raised the top of her mattress so she was sitting up, then rilled a plastic glass on the tray next to her bed. Bringing the straw to her lips, he watched her take a drink, his concerned gaze roaming over her face. "You sound better than I'd expected this morning, but how are you really feeling?"

She swallowed one last gulp of cool water, relieving her dry, scratchy throat. "My head is throbbing and I feel bruised, battered and achy. Like I got hit by a car."

He chuckled lightly at her wry tone and tipped his head. "You remember?"

"Not much, if anything at all." She sighed and settled back against her pillows. "Actually, one of the nurses told me what happened when I asked last night. That's how I know. I'm still kind of sketchy on the details, though."

He took a long drink of water from her glass and set it aside. "That's okay. It'll eventually come to you. I'm just glad to see your beautiful eyes are wide open and clear. You gave us all quite a scare."

"Us all?"

Nodding, he perched his hip on the mattress next to her waist and placed her hand between his. His thumb drew lazy patterns over her knuckles. "Me, my brother, Melodie, Bobby, and everyone at Murphy's."

She thought hard to place who those people were. Struck with a sudden dull ache at her temple, she pressed her fingers against the sore spot. "The names are familiar, but why can't I place their faces?" she asked, annoyed with her inability to do so.

He hesitated, his gentle caresses stopping. Then he asked very carefully, "Didn't the doctor tell you?"

By the tone of his voice and the troubled look marring his brows, she was certain she wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say. "Tell me what?"

He released a deep breath. Now that the issue had been brought up, it was obvious that he felt obligated to carry it through. "About your amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Her voice rose to an incredulous pitch, and she experienced an adrenaline rush of distress. "But I remember you." Which was why she hadn't been overly alarmed at the other little things she couldn't recollect. But now that he'd used the word amnesia, her lack of recall made more sense, not that she liked it one bit.

"And thank God for that." He tenderly brushed her hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin. "But there are other things you might not remember."

Well, she certainly couldn't argue with his statement. Stunned, she could only shake her head in wonder and fear. How strange it was not to recall certain parts of your life, yet know other things so instinctively. Like her inexplicable emotional and physical connection to Noah.

"Tell me what the doctor told you," she asked, and listened to him explain her level of amnesia, and that while she might be able to remember certain aspects of her past and current life, other things might not be clear at all.

She shook her head in shock. "Is this retrograde amnesia permanent?"

"Not according to the doctor," he reassured her. "You suffered a huge trauma when you hit your head, and he said that you'll start remembering things in bits and pieces over the course of the next few weeks or months. He's confident that you'll have a full recovery in time."

She shivered as a chill rippled through her. "But in the meantime, I've only got half a memory? How frightening is that?"

He gave her hand a tender squeeze. "I know it has to be scary, but I promise I'll be here for you."

Knowing she could count on Noah brought her immense comfort, because at the moment she was feeling incredibly alone and vulnerable. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He bent close and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

His lips were warm and sensual, the scent of him musky and all male. His morning stubble lightly chafed her skin, eliciting a stirring of desire in her blood. Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, and she was surprised that the monitor she was hooked up to didn't go haywire. When he lifted his head again and met her gaze, his eyes were dark and intense.