This time Remi shook his head. “That I don’t know. I need to do some digging.”

  “But what does your gut tell you, right now?” Rae asked, needing desperately to know.

  Remi didn’t look happy about answering, but he did anyway. “My gut says he’s on the level. But I won’t trust your safety to just my gut.”

  Rae reached for his hand and squeezed it, a gentle thank-you, before drawing back. “I know you won’t. But”—she squared her shoulders, trying for as much dignity as she could get in a flimsy hospital gown with no bra—“I’m safe here, at least for the moment. As long as you have eyes on me,” and they did, she knew, “I think it’s okay to let him stay.”

  “Rae,” Leah protested.

  Remi seemed about to join her, but something in Rae told her she needed to do this. Maybe she actually had a gut instinct as well, even if she didn’t remember using it before.

  “I think… I think I need to get to know him, Leah,” she said in a rush. If she had chosen this man, whether she could remember it or not, she needed to explore that. “How else will I ever get back to normal?” Her heartbeat picked up as a sliver of panic crept in. “I won’t be here in the hospital forever. If what he’s saying is true and I’m living with him, I don’t want to get to know him after I leave. I want to know now. And I want Remi, if he’s willing, to find out everything he can about him in the meantime.”

  “That’s a given,” Remi said gruffly.

  “I know.” She gave the big man a tired smile. “I know neither one of you had to do any of this for me. I can’t thank you enough. I’d be lost without you.” The last words cracked with emotion, but she cleared her throat and went on. “So…you research your way, and I’ll research mine, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You should sleep.”

  Rae cocked a brow in Saint’s direction. “Do you really think tonight has been conducive to sleep?”

  He eased himself into the recliner in the corner of the room. Or mini recliner—the chair was barely half his size and groaned as it accepted his weight. Just how big was he, anyway?

  His grin lit those gorgeous hazel eyes. “If the nurses’ constant interruptions even let you, right?”

  That look made her want to smile in return. Which just made her more suspicious. How could a guy be this beautiful? And how could a guy this beautiful be interested in her? She’d looked in the mirror a few times when she’d finally managed to start shuffling to the bathroom on her own, and she was no prize, especially not in her current condition.

  Speaking of which, what was she going to do when she needed to shuffle to the bathroom? Saint wasn’t just going to stand on the sideline and wait. He’d be right there, hovering.

  She smothered a groan and decided she’d deal with it when the time came. Maybe it wouldn’t.

  Yeah, right.

  “I don’t think I’m the only one who won’t be getting any sleep,” she pointed out, eyeing first the chair, then him. He’d be lucky if the thing didn’t collapse beneath him.

  A sigh escaped as she rubbed at the pounding ache in her head that still hadn’t let up despite the meds the nurse had brought before Leah and Remi left. She’d felt oddly abandoned as they walked out the door, though she’d been the one to tell them to go. It was like pulling the rug out from under herself—sending away her own stability, her grounding. But she couldn’t rely on them to keep her stable. They had no connection between them aside from a curious nurse’s interest; at some point they’d walk out the door for good. Better to get used to standing on her own two feet—so to speak—now than later.

  “I’ll be fine,” Saint was saying. She realized too late that he’d abandoned his chair for her bedside, but couldn’t bring herself to protest as he took up a perch on the edge of her mattress. “Hurting?”

  The deep timbre of his voice, that seductive, concerned tone sent goose bumps down her arms. She rubbed at them, willing them to go away. “Most of the time,” she admitted, then stilled in surprise. She hadn’t even told the nurses that, so why tell him? The question didn’t stop the flow of words, however. “Residual headaches from the hit to the head. Supposedly they’ll go away eventually.”

  “Supposedly?”

  She shrugged. “They say a lot of things will get better.” Daring a glance up at him from under her eyelashes, she gave him a wry grin. “I have a feeling patience isn’t one of my virtues.”

  He laughed lightly.

  Staring at the man in front of her, she had a sudden desperate wish that she could remember even a hint of him. Those eyes. The curve of his lips. None of it was the slightest bit familiar.

  “Is it, Saint?”

  He raised a black brow. “Is it what?”

  “Is patience one of my virtues?”

  His amusement vanished like smoke. “I—” He hesitated, his hand reaching for her, then pulling back. “Can I hold your hand, Rae? Please?”

  This time she was the one who hesitated.

  “I just—” He dropped his gaze to the tight fists resting on her thighs. “It just feels wrong talking about this without touching you. Too impersonal. Not… close enough, I guess.”

  The thread of uncertainty in his words decided her. She reached out a hand.

  Saint took it carefully, a look of almost… awe crossing his face that had her choking up. That look couldn’t be fake, could it? How could anyone look that amazed to be touching another person?

  “I didn’t think I’d get to do this again,” he murmured, his thumb stroking along the back of her hand. The words brought vague visions of Saint frantic, worried, searching desperately to figure out what had happened to her, and her heart lurched. The need to comfort was instinctive—she squeezed his hand.

  He met her eyes, his own so intense she wanted to look away. She didn’t.

  “I’ve tried to imagine what you’ve gone through the past week, and I can’t, Rae. I have no idea what it’s like to have everything you know—about yourself, your life, your world—be completely wiped out. It hurts”—he spread one strong hand wide across his sternum—“right here, knowing that’s what you’re going through.” The fingers surrounding hers tightened. “I’m not going to abandon you. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to walk beside you, all the way.”

  Rae couldn’t breathe. His words, his vow hit her in the most vulnerable part of her, the part that had been a frightened little girl who wanted to hide in the dark and have all of this go away. Wanted someone to swoop in and save her. But she couldn’t let him. She wasn’t even totally sure she could trust him.

  She closed her eyes. “Saint—”

  “It’s going to be okay, cariño. I promise. I won’t let it be anything else.”

  She opened her eyes, swallowed hard against the need to surrender to the intensity of the man before her. “Saint—”

  The door to her room opened before she could get another word out. “You’re awake! Good.”

  The night nurse had been incessantly cheerful since Rae had moved to this ward, and the fact had irritated her to no end, but now she sighed in relief. Lying back against her pillows, she let the woman’s chatter and hustle—and flirting with Saint—fill the silence she wasn’t ready to fill.

  By the time the round of vitals and fussing with things were done, the pain meds had fully kicked in and the pain in Rae’s head had finally subsided, leaving her sleepy. Saint seemed to sense that. He pulled the recliner close to her bed, retrieved his phone from his back pocket, and settled in. “Why don’t you catch a little shut-eye while you can?”

  She honestly didn’t think she could sleep with a stranger in the room, but to her surprise, she stirred sometime later to find Saint watching her. Heat rushed to her cheeks as she swiped at her face. “I didn’t drool, did I?” Her cheeks flushed hotter. Did I really ask that? Way to embarrass yourself, Rae.

  The ease with which she found herself using her “new” name surprised her.

  “No drooling.” Saint chuckled, a hint of gravel peeking through as if he hadn’t spoken in hours.

  “How long did I sleep?”

  “About four hours.”

  That had her eyes widening. “Really?” No wonder her head wasn’t pounding. That might be the longest stretch of sleep she’d had since she’d awakened from the coma.

  That sense of unreality hit her again, the one that was always present when she remembered she had been hit by a car, in a coma, had amnesia. These things happened in dramas on TV, not in real life. And only on TV did the heroine wake up to a gorgeous hunk searching desperately to find her.

  Saint was circling the bed to pour her a fresh cup of water. “Yep.” He threw that sexy grin she was already becoming familiar with over his shoulder. “You even snored a little.”

  “I did not!”

  He laughed. “If you say so, but you weren’t awake, so…” He passed her the cup, holding it securely until he was certain she had a firm grip. As she brought the cup to her lips and sipped the chilled liquid, he leaned close to her ear. “It’s a cute snore, by the way.”

  She choked, then glared when he laughed again. “I do not snore,” she managed to grit out, holding back the grin that wanted to escape. Saint amused was difficult to resist.

  His cocked brow conveyed both skepticism and acquiescence. This man was gonna be a pain in the ass, she could already tell.

  Saint’s eyes narrowed when she shifted on the bed. “Need the bathroom?”

  She willed herself not to flush again. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

  He was already taking the cup back. “Trained not to. Come on.”

  “I do not need your help going to the bathroom.”

  “I can call a nurse if you want.”

  Her glare had zero effect on him—he simply shrugged. “Hey, Cindy said to call when you needed to go, so I’m just following orders.”

  She didn’t want any company going to the bathroom, but Saint wasn’t going to give her that choice. “Hand me that gown,” she demanded, pointing at another hospital gown on a side rung of the table tray.

  “For?”

  She snatched the fabric from his hand the second it got close enough. “For covering my bare ass.” Turning the gown backward, she slid it over her arms so that it opened in front, effectively becoming a robe. Her balance wasn’t good enough to both walk across the room without help and hold her gown closed in the back.

  “I have no objections to seeing your bare ass.”

  She stumbled as her feet landed on the floor. Saint was right there, his hand on her arm, holding her steady. The touch—and his words—sent an unwanted thrill through her. She tried her damnedest to sound tough. “Yeah, not gonna happen, buddy.”

  His breath warmed the side of her neck when he leaned close. “Already has.”

  She stilled even as a shiver shot down her spine. “Saint—”

  He eased back. “Too much?”

  “Uh”—she took an unsteady step forward—“a little.”

  “Okay.” His free arm wrapped around her rib cage, fingers resting lightly on the opposite side to steady her. “I’ll wait a little longer to mention how much I enjoyed seeing your ass, then. And want to see it again.”

  A soft oof escaped him as her elbow hit his ribs. She noticed about the same time that he’d gotten her across the room in record time with barely any strain. The man was good at distracting her.

  At the door to the small bath, she gripped the doorframe and turned to him resolutely. “You wait here.”

  He opened his mouth to protest.

  “Here,” she insisted. “I might not remember much about whoever I was before, but who I am now wants to pee without an audience.”

  He chuckled but didn’t try to push his way in. “Just sing out if you need help.”

  “Good boy.” She grinned as she closed the door in his face.

  “Good boys get to see bare asses,” he called through the door.

  She didn’t dignify that with a reply.

  And so their night went, bantering back and forth between the longest bouts of sleep she’d had in days. By the time the doctor appeared on morning rounds, she was rested and fed and felt better than she could remember in, well, ever. Which was saying a lot despite the fact that she couldn’t remember a very long span of days. Saint stayed to meet the doctor and get an update on her progress, then decided to head home for a shower before reporting in to the office. “I’ll be back by dinnertime.”

  “Saint, you don’t have to be here every night.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be here every night. Every second they were together felt like it was tearing down defenses she also felt she desperately needed.

  “Don’t have to be,” he agreed, lifting the recliner back into its place against the wall. “Doesn’t mean I won’t be.” He walked back to the bed, took her hand, and watched as his fingers played with hers. “You’ll get to go home eventually.”

  “Yeah, but to where?”

  His gaze met hers, determined. “Home. With me.” Pause. “If that’s where you want to be.”

  “And if I don’t?” something made her ask.

  She’d never seen the light in someone’s eyes die so quickly. “Let’s just give it a few days and see how you feel then.”

  “Yeah, let’s see.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dain: Get your ass here and in my office STAT.

  Saint stared at the text message from his boss lighting up his phone screen and felt a twist of regret and dread mix in his gut. He’d hoped to delay Dain from finding out about Rae until he had her home from the hospital, but obviously something had gone wrong. King would never rat him out, so whatever it was, it had to be big.

  His phone dinged again as he pulled into his parking space in the garage attached to the JCL building. A message from King. One word:

  Remi.

  Fuck.

  King hadn’t needed to rat him out; their former client had done fine with that on his own. What had Dain told him?

  Saint’s footsteps matched pace with his racing heartbeat as he hurried toward the elevators. As he ran, he texted King back. He didn’t waste any time.

  King: Did you think he would?

  No, but a man could hope.

  King: That man wants to know everything about you, right down to the brand of underwear you buy. Better believe he’s serious about this.

  Saint: He’d have to sleep with me to get the underwear intel, and that ain’t happening so he’s SOL.

  In under a minute he was stepping out into the calming reception area that served as gatekeeper to JCL’s main floor. Lori, their head administrator, gave him a wry grin that belied her accompanying wink—the grin said she’d heard Dain was on the warpath to find him; the wink was her form of encouragement. He flashed his trademark smile that made even immune Lori blush, and hurried down the hall.

  When he swung through the door into his team lead’s office, he caught Dain in mid tirade.

  “Used company resources to stalk a defenseless woman! Misrepresented yourselves to a former client—”

  “We didn’t misrepresent ourselves,” Saint cut in before Dain could continue chewing out King and Elliot, both of whom stood impassively in front of their team lead’s heavy desk. “I lied, Dain. Me. No one else.” He slid the door closed and moved to stand beside his teammates.

  “I did go along with it,” King put in mildly like a dumbass.

  “Shut the fuck up, bro.”

  “Yes,” Dain growled, leaning over his desk, fists planted on the hard surface. “Shut the fuck up.”

  Elliot raised her hand like a seven-year-old schoolgirl instead of the deadly assassin she was. “Do I have to shut the fuck up?”

  “Yes!”

  She grinned at the surround-sound answer all three of them gave her, completely unrepentant. “Just clarifying.”

  “Dain,” Saint cut in again, probably at his own peril, ignoring the rising flash of anger deepening the already dark tone of Dain’s skin. “What did you tell Agozi?”

  That brought his friend up short. A long moment passed. Saint watched as Dain visibly reined himself in. Finally, “I backed your play; what the fuck do you think I did? And I’m not fucking happy about it.”

  Saint could tell.

  “I lied to a very important client to keep him from going over my head and having you fired,” his team lead was saying, “so tell me what the hell is going on. Why exactly did I put my ass on the line?”

  Saint hesitated. “Can I talk to you privately?”

  “You mean about the situation you’ve dragged every single one of us into?” Elliott offered cheerfully. She was getting far too much enjoyment out of this.

  “Shut—”

  She raised a hand, cutting the three of them off. “The fuck up. I know.” She grinned, again unrepentant. “But you know it’s true.”

  She wasn’t wrong. He had to give her that. So he did, nodding her way before he took a deep breath and tried to put into words the check holding him back. “I don’t want anyone viewing Rae…”

  “Differently?” Elliot asked. “Trust me, I won’t. Or I won’t view her as anything more than a casualty of your man-whorish ways.” She winked. “Seriously, though, Rae is a grown woman, and your dick isn’t some magic wand that can make her act against her will, bro. None of us are gonna judge her if she wanted a one-night stand.” She paused. “Her judgment in picking you to sleep with, maybe, but not for having sex.”

  Saint shot his teammate the bird.

  All she did was laugh. “Love you too.”

  “Can we get back on topic, please?”

  Dain’s words were still angry, but Elliot’s antics had brought the heat level down a couple of degrees. She’d done what he normally tried to do but couldn’t right now. Saint made a mental note to thank her later.