Zander fumed while staring at Pete, sitting in the police station. “I’m telling you, I got a bad feeling about this—”
Lifting his hand in protest, Pete argued, “I get it, Zan. I do. But we’ve got nothing to go on. What you’re telling me is good information and I promise to contact the manager of the restaurant to see if there is an employee who can give us more details about the man. However, right now, we don’t even have a photo of him to circulate. His description is too vague, even by you, to come up with more than a drawing of what he looks like.”
“So, we’ve got nothin’,” Zander bit out.
“We have the DNA from underneath Rosalie’s fingernails from the attack, but it doesn’t tell us who the assailant was. If we get someone, we can nail him with that, but it doesn’t lead us to anyone now.”
“What if he’s still after her? What if he’s out there watching her right now?”
“If he is, then he’s not making a show of it. The hospital reported that no one asked about her and they were on alert, since they knew she was a Jane Doe. When that happens, the hospital personnel are trained to be on alert if anyone calls in with a description that matches their Jane Doe. That’s often how they identify an accident patient who comes in with no identification—a relative or friend calls and starts describing the person with enough detail for there to be a tentative match, which is then verified.”
Leaning back with a huff, Zander shook his head. “I thought it was just a guy with anger issues who had too much to drink, got rebuffed so he went ape-shit and attacked her. I never thought about it being someone who might have been after her.” Scrubbing his hand over his neck, he added, “I just feel like she’s a sitting duck.”
“She with you most of the time?”
“I’ve got her at my apartment…” Seeing Pete’s lifted brow, he added, “She’s in the guest room.”
Throwing his hands up, Pete defended, “Hey, I know you’re a good man. But, I also know she looks at you like you’re the only man on earth.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind something happening, but only when the time is right. So, for now, I’m giving her a safe place to continue to heal.”
Walking into his apartment that evening after visiting the police station, he smiled at Rosalie before his eyes slid to Jaxon, offering his friend a chin lift.
“Jaxon came by and I told him I didn’t think you’d be too much longer,” she said, standing at the oven, pulling out a large pan of lasagna. “Look what Miss Ethel sent over.” Setting the pan on a folded dishrag on the counter, she invited, “Jaxon, will you stay and eat with us tonight?”
“No thanks,” he replied affably, standing to leave.
Rosalie cocked her head to the side, considering him carefully. “But I thought you needed to talk to Zander?”
Blinking rapidly, he nodded. “Yeah…uh…yeah. It’s about his truck.” Shooting a glance at Zander, he said, “Can I take a look at it now?”
“Sure,” he agreed, then turned to her. “Be right back.”
Zander walked with Jaxon down the stairs, pausing at the bottom. “Thanks for coming, man.”
“No problem, Zander. What did Pete say?”
“Still a big, fat nothin’. We’ve got no picture, not from the night of the attack nor from the restaurant where she used to work. The description sounds like the same man, but who the hell knows.”
Jaxon glanced up toward the apartment. “What are you going to do? I mean, me and the guys have no problem dropping by and checking on her when you’re out and you know Miss Ethel would love to have her around, but you can’t keep her locked in an ivory tower forever.”
Blowing out his breath, he nodded his agreement.
“And when you’re at work half the night?”
“I don’t know. Hell, I’m flying by the seat of my pants, here. I’ve got no fuckin’ idea what I’m doing, other than I want her in my life and will die trying to protect her.”
Slapping him on the shoulder, Jaxon said, “Well, let’s not have it come down to that. Go on and get your supper. Miss Ethel wanted to send something, so you know it’s good. She’d like a visit soon, you know.”
“Rosalie got her security deposit back from her last rental, so I’m taking her to the bank tomorrow so she can get back into her account. We’ll stop by afterward.”
Waving Jaxon off, he headed back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Zander looked across the small table, seeing a small dab of sauce on the corner of Rosalie’s mouth. As her tongue darted out to lick it off, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair at the familiar hard-on he was constantly trying to hide.
Rosalie looked over, noting Zander’s eyes were on her lips. Lifting her napkin, she wiped her mouth. “Do I have more sauce on my mouth?”
Blinking, his gaze jumped from her lips to her eyes, widely staring back at him. Clearing his throat, he said, “No, no. Sorry…must have had my mind somewhere else.”
“Oh,” she said, chastising herself for wishing his mind was on her.
Standing, they reached for the platter at the same time, their hands touching, sending a tingle zipping up her arm. From his quick intake of breath, she wondered if he felt it too.
Insisting she sit down while he cleaned, she sat on the sofa, watching as he finished washing the plates and putting the lasagna leftovers in the refrigerator. His body moved with a natural grace she admired. His black t-shirt strained over the muscles in his chest and the sleeves were tight against his arms. The ink on his left arm only accentuated his tone and her eyes followed his every move. His hair, shorter on the sides, looked like he casually ran his hands through the top, leaving it messy and oh, so sexy. Suddenly, he tossed the dishrag on the counter and turned around to face her. His light-colored eyes landed on hers, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
“You keep staring at me like that and…” he drifted off, his voice like gravel.
“And what?” She stood, taking a step toward him, wondering what she was doing.
Stalking around the corner, Zander headed toward her, stopping a few feet from her. Not letting go of her gaze, he battled the desire to take her in his arms. “Rosalie, I’m trying to do the right thing here. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Take advantage? You’ve cared for me since we first met.”
“You’ve been injured,” he added, his hand twitching at his hips, longing to reach out and touch her.
“My injuries are healing. I feel fine.”
Sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, he said, “You don’t have all of your memories back.”
“We know I’m not involved with anyone.” She took a small step forward, stopping with her bare toes right in front of his socked feet, her head tilted back to peer into his face. Placing her hands on his warm chest, she said, “I want you. I want this.”
Her hands seared his skin as he let go of his last inhibitions. Lifting her up by her waist, her legs wrapped around his hips, her body pressing tightly against his. The feel of her in his arms was the last puzzle piece falling into place. It was right…and right where he wanted her to be. Her hair, like silk, flowed over his arms and he lifted one hand to thread his fingers through the tresses.
His mouth slanted onto hers, molding their lips together, sucking, nipping, tasting. The evidence of his need was pressed against her core and she moaned into his mouth. The sound reverberated through him, making all thoughts of slowing things down almost impossible.
Carrying her down the hall, he entered his bedroom, maneuvering their bodies so they were both lying on the bed, she on top of him. Lips still attached, he slid his hands to her ass, molding the flesh with his fingers.
Sliding up on her knees, Rosalie straddled his hips, her hands on his hard chest, her breathing ragged. Staring down at his face, his eyes pierced into hers and he opened his mouth to speak. Knowing he was about to say they should stop, she pressed her fingers against his lips, stilling them. His eyes widened as she reached to the bottom of her t-shirt and pulled it up slowly over her head.
Zander watched as the pale skin of her stomach was exposed and the material snagged for a second at the bottom of her breasts. With a deft move, she sent the material over her head and down onto the floor. Wearing a simple, white cotton bra, his gaze focused momentarily on her full breasts before sliding upward, latching once more on her face.
Rosalie reached back, unfastening her bra, letting it slide down her arms. Dropping it to the side, she suddenly became unsure, crossing her arms over her breasts.
Reaching up, he gently pulled her arms away, saying, “You’re so beautiful. Please don’t feel embarrassed. If anyone should be embarrassed, it’s me. You’re way too beautiful to be with me.”
A giggle slipped out as she rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. You? Mr. Gorgeous, muscles, tattoos, and kind heart and—”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” he grinned.
Sucking in her lips as the pleasure of his hands gliding over her breasts threatened to take away all thought, she whispered, “Maybe we’re just perfect for each other.”
With a deft maneuver, Zander rolled them over, looming above her, his penetrating gaze roaming over her face. “Can’t think of anything better anyone’s ever said to me. To be someone’s perfect.” Leaning down, he kissed her lips, slow and sweet, savoring every taste.
Finally, dragging himself off the bed, he stood, sliding her pants down her legs, taking her white panties with them. Peering down at her, stunned that she was in his bed, giving herself to him, he wondered if it were a dream.
“Perfect,” he agreed. “You’re my perfect.”
He grabbed the back of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His hands went to his jeans, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.
As he shucked his jeans, Rosalie’s eyes traveled down from his wide shoulders to his naked chest. A tattoo was inked from his left shoulder, extending down his arm, the flowers and patterns creating a mesmerizing piece of art. She could not wait to trace the intricate design with her fingers, memorizing it as she went. He was powerfully built with thick chest muscles, chiseled abs, and a tight stomach that ended in a perfect V that traveled downwards. By the time her eyes had moved to the end of the V, his jeans and boxers were off and her eyes feasted on his cock. Blowing out her breath, nerves threatened to overwhelm her.
I don’t know if I’ve had sex…or with whom…or how many—
“Whoa, come back to me,” he said gently, seeing the panic in her eyes. “We don’t have to do anything but just lay here and hold each other. And we can do that dressed, if it would make you more comfortable.” He bent over to snag his jeans off the floor, but she leaned up on her elbows and stopped him.
“No, no,” she protested. “I don’t want to stop. I just got scared.” He moved to sit next to her on the bed, rubbing his large hand over her leg. Soothed by the motion, she continued, “I don’t know when the last time I had sex was. Or if I’ve had sex. Or who—”
“Shhh, it’s all right,” Zander nodded, her expression searing him. She looked so lost. “I hadn’t thought about how this would seem to you. Are you sure you want to go ahead?” Gaining her enthusiastic smile, he said, “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’ll go slow…we’ll go easy. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you just tell me. Part of our being perfect together means that even stopping will be perfect.”
He saw the second of hesitation and made the decision for her. Maneuvering her gently, he pulled the covers down before tucking them both into bed.
Curling his body around hers, he whispered, “Sleep, babe. That’s all we need to do tonight…just sleep in each other’s arms.”
He heard a long sigh, but she did not protest. With her pressed against him, he felt her body become heavy as sleep claimed her. The light from the hall created a halo of blonde, silken hair, sifting through his fingers as Rosalie lay with her head on his chest. His heart full, Zander tucked her closer as his hand drifted near the scar running at the edge of her hairline. A flash of memory came to him, reminding him of what she looked like when he first found her…battered, lying in the dirt. Closing his eyes, he willed the remembrance away, focusing instead on the soft breath caressing his chest and her small hand resting on his stomach.
Not sorry they stopped, he strengthened his resolve to take care of her, in all ways. Tucking the covers up higher around her shoulders, he drifted to sleep, a smile on his lips.