When he sped up, I was propelled backward and the speed caused me to lose my breath all over again. I had to lean closer to the biker to keep my grip on him, and now my breasts were pressed firmly against his back.
I had been worried about so many things—about taking off with a stranger, about riding a fast vehicle, about having no protective clothing. Anything could happen. Maybe I can slip away the moment he slows the bike down, I thought, but I doubted it. I felt light-headed and stunned with shock. Chances were that if I left his bike at any point, I wouldn’t make it two steps before tripping and falling over into a solid face-plant. Wouldn’t that be lovely? I just didn’t trust myself enough to get away to safety on my own. I had to put my trust in the stranger, despite how I felt about the whole situation. But, as the wind snatched the band from my hair and sent it flying out behind me in a wild auburn wave, and the bike beneath me sent regular shudders shooting through my body, I held onto the strong, rigid form of the man in front of me, none of those worries mattered. I’d never felt so free, I’d never felt so excited, and I’d never felt so scared.
Eventually, the biker slowed outside a large hotel. I looked up from his jacket to see lights welcome us up a winding path toward a massive building. I frowned as the biker revved his motor and coasted up the pathway, wondering if he was sneaking in somewhere.
The biker headed up the path and stopped outside the hotel’s back entrance. I gazed at the misty lights filtering from the windows. The man switched off the engine, and I carefully climbed off as he pushed down the kickstand.
I placed both feet on the ground and then swayed.
The world tilted.
I fell backward.
The last thing I felt were two powerful hands grabbing and holding me before darkness consumed me.
I awoke in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar face staring down at me. For a moment I panicked, thinking I’d been kidnapped. The bed I was lying on was massive and adorned with silk sheets and a feather-soft comforter. A deep burgundy canopy surrounded me, and a middle-aged woman was at my side, picking up a bandage wrapper that was sitting on the side of the bed. I blinked and stared in confusion.
The woman gazed at me for a moment. “I’m Dr. Ward. How are you feeling?”
I raised my arm to touch my head, but the doctor caught my wrist. “It seems you hit your head, but you’ll be fine. Still, it’s best if you rest. The bleeding was from a superficial wound and didn’t require stitches. You were only out for five-to-ten minutes, give or take. Fainting is common and usually not serious, typically brought on by emotional stress. Emotions like fear, pain, anxiety, or shock can cause one’s blood pressure to drop to the point where they faint. Have you ever fainted before?”
Seriously, that was a lot of information to process when I’d just opened my eyeballs—and she talked really fast. Was it too soon to ask for coffee? Probably. Sigh. “Um, yes, one or two times—well, rarely, only when I’m overly stressed, though.”
“Okay, but if you feel your dizziness increase, or if you start feeling sick, or your heartbeat becomes irregular, you should call immediately. I also recommend contacting your doctor to get that checked out, just to be on the safe side.”
When did I hit my head? I wondered, still feeling groggy. I wanted to ask the question, but I knew this woman wouldn’t be able to give me an answer. She hadn’t been there after all.
“Where am I?” I asked instead.
The woman seemed sympathetic to my state. “You’re at the Regal Heights Hotel.” I gave her a questioning expression—I’d never heard of the place. “You were picked up and brought here to safety. I’m a guest, and was down in the lobby when you were rushed in. I was informed that you were attacked about a block from the Sandmeier Museum.”
I nodded. “Yes. I work there as a waitress. Late shift. I was just trying to get home.”
The woman stood from her crouched position on the bed, brushing the canopy out of the way, and rose to her feet. “Well, try to take it easy. It’s best if you stay in bed for a few more hours.” She patted my arm. “Get a good night’s rest.”
“Thank you.” I watched as the woman took her leave out the polished oak door and closed it behind her.
I sighed, glancing around the room.
Everything was immaculately kept, but the room was mostly without decoration. There was a large closet directly across from the foot of the bed, and out of the corner of my eye, I took note of a crimson rug positioned on the floor. I wanted definitive answers, other than I was “just in some hotel.” I wanted to know who the man was, the biker who’d saved me last night. Would I ever see him again?
I took my time, slowly peeling the covers off my legs. Someone had dressed me in dry clothes. I now wore a lacy, long silken nightgown. I guessed it was nice of whoever had gotten me out of my drenched uniform I’d been wearing earlier. I had my panties on but wasn’t wearing a bra—I’d taken that sucker off and stuffed it in my purse before I left work. The underwire popped out earlier in my shift and had been poking me in the side-boob all damn day. Oh, God. Someone had seen my breasts. Awesome. See? All-around crap day. Well, at least I didn’t die…
I gradually slid my bare feet to the edge of the bed and rose. My head twinged with a slight ache, forcing a subtle pounding to settle across my hairline and around my ears.
I pulled my hair away from my shoulders and accidentally brushed against the band-aid near my temple. Oww! Don’t touch it, dummy. I stepped to the door and opened it, peeking out into the hall.
“The persistent type, aren’t you?” The voice startled me—it was deep and familiar.
I hadn’t expected anyone. Least of all him. I recognized the voice as belonging to the biker from earlier that night. I took stock of the man standing in front of me: white shirt and black leather pants. His powerful arms were folded against his chest. He was tall and extraordinarily well-built. I tried not to lick my lips. I failed.
“First, you walk past a shady alley in the middle of a rainstorm in the dead of night, and then you get out of bed without assistance, even after I’m sure Dr. Ward told you to stay put.”
I stepped further into the hallway. “Who undressed me?”
I was able to see him a bit better now and noticed his eyes. They were the color of a soul-piercing blue, and surprisingly kind, despite his rough appearance. He had a hard stare, but his face was remarkably handsome. He had a dimple in his chin (one I wanted to touch—down, girl), a long and thin nose and gently arching eyebrows.
He unfolded his arms as he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering for a millisecond on my breasts. “Dr. Ward. Your modesty is still intact.” He gave me a sexy half-grin. “Are you feeling better? You took a hit.”
“The doctor said the same thing, but I don’t remember it.” Thank God it was the doctor who’d undressed me and not “Mr. Tall Dark and Yummy.”
“That’s no surprise. You fainted. I’d say you might have a little memory loss—you had a rough night. I mean, it’s possible, but I’m no doctor. Don’t worry, though, I informed the cops. It’s best if you make a formal statement once you’re feeling better. Other than that, you didn’t miss anything major.” He gave me a mischievous smile and winked. “You still remember who I am.”