the uncomfortable feeling that she’d just disappointed him somehow. Which was absolutely crazy. And seemingly right in line with the rest of this bizarre morning.
“You don’t remember.”
Aimee closed her eyes and said a prayer under her breath. His voice could seduce the coldest of women. Like dark, thick chocolate, it flowed through her veins, tempting her to just crawl back in bed and throw herself at him. She shook her head, refusing to look at him. She had to get him out of her house.
Fingers stroked her cheek. Aimee’s eyes popped open, and she screamed and jumped back. She hadn’t heard him move. The bed hadn’t creaked. The sheet beneath him had made no sound. For such a large man, he was incredibly quiet when he moved. She wished she were half as graceful. Instead, she felt her left foot tangle in the sheet. Her knee began to buckle and she started to go down.
Before she could do more than gasp, the stranger scooped her into his arms, a frown marring his rugged face. “You truly don’t remember.”
He seemed more than a little upset by this. She ignored the heat emanating from his massive chest as he set her back on the bed. He loomed above her, large and naked, his erection heavy and thick. She should be afraid of him, shouldn’t she? He was a total stranger, and he was making himself at home in her house.
The problem was, he didn’t seem like a stranger. With each passing moment, he felt like someone she knew…well. Of course, she’d had sex with the man. Couldn’t get much closer than that.
But it was more than a physical connection. There was some part of her, deep in her soul, that recognized him and yearned to help him. Shaking her head, she struggled to find her voice again. “No. No, I don’t remember.” That wasn’t exactly true. “I don’t remember much.” But the longer she was awake, the more she was remembering. Aimee rubbed her fingertips over her temples, trying to beat back the headache that was starting to brew.
“What do you remember?”
She ignored his demand. She had a few questions of her own. “First things first. Who the heck are you?”
He sat down on the mattress beside her, his hip brushing her thigh. The sheet separated them, but it might as well have not been there for all the protection it offered her. She could feel the heat from his body soaking into her chilled flesh.
“My name is Roric.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from her.
The name stirred a memory from deep in her subconscious. She frowned as more details came back to her. That was the word the carnival people had shouted at her while she’d taken the wild ride on the carousel. But had that really happened? Aimee was no longer certain about anything.
“You remember something,” he prompted her. He narrowed his eyes. A muscle rippled in his jaw as he watched and waited. She had a feeling he was very good at waiting.
“I’m not sure of anything.” She could hear the rising hysteria in her voice and struggled to keep calm and composed, which wasn’t easy to do with a naked stranger sitting next to her.
He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Strand of white and black sifted through his fingers.
It came to her then who he reminded her of. The white tiger from the carnival ride. He was also the same man from a dream she’d had two nights ago. She frowned. Or was it longer? Somewhere along the way she’d lost all sense of time and had no idea what day it was.
How could she dream about a man she’d never met? Had she seen his face somewhere, and her subconscious used that memory to bring him into her dream? Didn’t seem possible. She’d certainly remember seeing a man as striking as Roric.
“I went to a carnival last night and saw some strange things there. At least I think I did. At this point, I’m not sure what’s a dream and what’s reality.” A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe she was the victim of some sort of scam. Had she been
“You don’t remember.”
Aimee closed her eyes and said a prayer under her breath. His voice could seduce the coldest of women. Like dark, thick chocolate, it flowed through her veins, tempting her to just crawl back in bed and throw herself at him. She shook her head, refusing to look at him. She had to get him out of her house.
Fingers stroked her cheek. Aimee’s eyes popped open, and she screamed and jumped back. She hadn’t heard him move. The bed hadn’t creaked. The sheet beneath him had made no sound. For such a large man, he was incredibly quiet when he moved. She wished she were half as graceful. Instead, she felt her left foot tangle in the sheet. Her knee began to buckle and she started to go down.
Before she could do more than gasp, the stranger scooped her into his arms, a frown marring his rugged face. “You truly don’t remember.”
He seemed more than a little upset by this. She ignored the heat emanating from his massive chest as he set her back on the bed. He loomed above her, large and naked, his erection heavy and thick. She should be afraid of him, shouldn’t she? He was a total stranger, and he was making himself at home in her house.
The problem was, he didn’t seem like a stranger. With each passing moment, he felt like someone she knew…well. Of course, she’d had sex with the man. Couldn’t get much closer than that.
But it was more than a physical connection. There was some part of her, deep in her soul, that recognized him and yearned to help him. Shaking her head, she struggled to find her voice again. “No. No, I don’t remember.” That wasn’t exactly true. “I don’t remember much.” But the longer she was awake, the more she was remembering. Aimee rubbed her fingertips over her temples, trying to beat back the headache that was starting to brew.
“What do you remember?”
She ignored his demand. She had a few questions of her own. “First things first. Who the heck are you?”
He sat down on the mattress beside her, his hip brushing her thigh. The sheet separated them, but it might as well have not been there for all the protection it offered her. She could feel the heat from his body soaking into her chilled flesh.
“My name is Roric.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from her.
The name stirred a memory from deep in her subconscious. She frowned as more details came back to her. That was the word the carnival people had shouted at her while she’d taken the wild ride on the carousel. But had that really happened? Aimee was no longer certain about anything.
“You remember something,” he prompted her. He narrowed his eyes. A muscle rippled in his jaw as he watched and waited. She had a feeling he was very good at waiting.
“I’m not sure of anything.” She could hear the rising hysteria in her voice and struggled to keep calm and composed, which wasn’t easy to do with a naked stranger sitting next to her.
He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Strand of white and black sifted through his fingers.
It came to her then who he reminded her of. The white tiger from the carnival ride. He was also the same man from a dream she’d had two nights ago. She frowned. Or was it longer? Somewhere along the way she’d lost all sense of time and had no idea what day it was.
How could she dream about a man she’d never met? Had she seen his face somewhere, and her subconscious used that memory to bring him into her dream? Didn’t seem possible. She’d certainly remember seeing a man as striking as Roric.
“I went to a carnival last night and saw some strange things there. At least I think I did. At this point, I’m not sure what’s a dream and what’s reality.” A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe she was the victim of some sort of scam. Had she been
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