Sheri WhiteFeather - Imminent Affair

He petted Sam again, thinking how pretty she was, much like her mistress. Allie was a bit of cat herself. Long, lean and feline.

Damn, Daniel thought. Damn.

Allie stirred a blood-burning hunger he was desperately trying to suppress. Being friends with a woman that you wanted to strip naked wasn’t a good thing.

To make matters worse, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid, and he meant that literally. He’d been celibate since the post-surgical coma that had wiped out most of his memory.

She entered the kitchen, and his pulse quickened. She looked so soft, so beautiful, so vulnerable, he battled his emotions. Beyond the attraction was an overwhelming desire to keep her safe.

The scene at her loft had knotted his gut. If it went further, if someone tried to harm her…

“I think it’s done,” she said.

He gave her a blank stare. Or maybe it wasn’t so blank. At the moment, he’d become fixated on her waist-length hair, on the way it framed her face and wrapped her in flowing lines. “I’m sorry. What?”

“That sandwich. You’re killing it.”

He glanced down at the pan. He was squishing the grilled bread with a spatula, making cheese leak out the sides. He scooped it up and put it on a plate, then realized how unattractive the presentation was. Trying to pretty it up, he reached for shiny red apple from a basket on the counter and placed it beside the sandwich. He’d already put the salad on the table.

Once both plates were fixed, he and Allie sat down to eat. She didn’t seem to mind his lousy cooking. Either that or she was too hungry to care. The tea seemed to help, too. She sweetened it with honey and sipped generously.

“Tell me more about Glynis,” he said. It was odd to ask one woman about another, but what else could he do? He had no recollection of his former lover. His doctor claimed that portions of his memory might return, but a full recovery was doubtful.

Allie glanced up from her plate. “She owns a string of mortuaries that she inherited from her late husband. She’s always had a ‘thing’ for death.”

Daniel made a tight face. If Glynis was the vandal, she might be capable of anything. Not only that, but why would he have slept with a woman who was intrigued by death? That didn’t bode well for his character.

“In the eighties, she ran a Death Rock club,” Allie said.

“The eighties?” Not only did Glynis sound odd, she was older than he’d expected. “I dated a cougar?”

“That’s one way of putting it, I guess. But I can see why you were attracted to her. She’s quite glamorous. She resembles Bettie Page.”

“The 1950s pinup model?” Daniel got an image of a shapely brunette wearing fetish gear. The Glynis scenario was getting weirder. He wondered what sort of relationship he’d had with her. He couldn’t begin to describe how disturbing it was not knowing intimate details about himself.

He quit eating. The sandwich tasted like crap anyway. “I wasn’t into kinky sex, was I?”

Caught off guard, Allie coughed on a sip of tea, and he realized how inappropriate the question was. He couldn’t backpedal, so he apologized. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t expect you to know something like that.”

Her cheeks turned rosy, making her look young and sweet, even if she was almost thirty.

Daniel discarded his kinky sex concerns. He might be lusting after Allie, but he wasn’t envisioning her in a rubber corset and bondage ties. He would rather see her in a luxurious nightgown, something long and lacy.

He wanted to reach across the table and touch her, but he resumed their conversation, returning to Glynis. “What does her fascination with death entail?”

“When she was younger, she used to pen pal with killers on death row. After she met her husband, she learned to respect death the way he did, not wallow in the morbid side of it. Or that’s what she claimed.”

“Do you know how I got hooked up with her?”

“Her husband supported the Native American Graves and Repatriation Act. He helped the Warrior Society recover stolen remains and funerary objects to their rightful owners.”

“So I knew him?”

“Yes, and after he died, you helped Glynis get through her grief.”

By sleeping with her? Daniel frowned. “That doesn’t make me sound very honorable.”

“You were honorable to me.” Her gaze locked onto his, and a blast of emotion erupted between them. “You saved my life. You…” Her voice broke, making the connection between them even more sensitive.

“I don’t remember the shooting.”

Her voice rattled some more. “I remember for both of us.”

“Remembering for me doesn’t count.” He wanted his own memories.

She didn’t say anything, and when things got too uncomfortable, he cleared the table. She’d eaten all of her food, lousy as it was.

He turned to look at her. “I think you should take some time off. Maybe call in sick, then arrange for a vacation or whatever.” He would be taking time away from his job, as well. “Tomorrow we can meet with Rex and get started on the investigation. We can pay Glynis a visit, too.”

“She won’t like us dropping by.”

“Too bad for her.” He wasn’t leaving any stone unturned, regardless of where it led or what it revealed about his past.

He was going to protect Allie. Every shaky step of the way.

Later that night Allie got ready for bed. She rummaged through her nightgowns and pajamas, contemplating what to wear. Not that it mattered. Daniel wasn’t going to see her. He’d already retired to his room.

Still, having him so close, so heart-flutteringly near, she couldn’t resist the urge to look pretty, to feel pretty, to don something soft and feminine. She went for a classic silk nightgown with a hint of ribbon and lace. The champagne-colored fabric hugged her curves and flowed at the hemline.

She washed her face and removed her makeup, then brushed her hair until it shined. The ends skimmed her tailbone.

Okay. There. She looked good. She felt good.

Allie scooted into bed and got restless. Being pretty for herself wasn’t enough.

She wanted to see Daniel, and she wanted him to see her. So do it, her mind coaxed. Find an excuse to knock on his door.

What excuse? That there were monsters under her bed?

The thought made her smile. At one time, she had endured monsters. Real ones. Allie’s diabolical ancestors had conjured witchcraft creatures, and she and Daniel had battled them. He’d helped her through the most difficult time of her life.

Was it any wonder that she loved him?

She got out of bed and checked her appearance in the mirror, giving her hair one final fluff and her nightgown one last body-clinging smooth. From there, she ventured into the hallway. Daniel lived in a modest North Hollywood residence, but he’d fixed it up nicely. He’d made all sorts of improvements, including new carpets, new floors and landscaping the front and back yards. In return, the landlord had discounted his rent.

Allie paused outside his room. A small strip of light shimmered beneath his door, a telltale sign that he remained awake. She still hadn’t come up with an excuse to be visiting him at this hour. But she knocked anyway. She was good at thinking on her feet.

He called out from behind the wooden barrier, “Come in.”

Suddenly she was nervous. She wanted to turn tail and run, but it was too late for that.

Allie opened the door and entered his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, with a paperback on the nightstand. His chest was bare, making the scar from his surgery visible, and he wore drawstring pajama bottoms slung low on his hips. She glanced at his navel and his gloriously rippled abs. Before she looked too hard and too deep, she shifted her attention to his face.