Slow Burn. Jamie Denton

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      “Can you?” he asked. “Take care of yourself, I mean?”

      Slowly, she pulled her hand from beneath his. “I know red means stop and green means go.” Anger and frustration lined her voice, and the gold rim surrounding her irises brightened. “I know fire is hot and ice is cold. If it’s raining, take an umbrella. If the telephone rings, answer it. I know what day it is, the month and even the year. I think I can cook, and I know how to make change so I can at least buy my meals if I can’t.”

      Cale shrugged. “Then what’s the problem?”

      “I don’t know where I live or even how I make my living. Since I don’t know if I have any family or anywhere to go, Mrs. Sutter explained a long-term care facility would at least assume my care until I’m better equipped to do so myself.”

      “What if…” He stopped and carefully considered his next words. Once uttered, he couldn’t take them back. But, dammit, he just didn’t have the heart to turn his back on someone who really needed him.

      “What if you had someone willing to take care of you?” he blurted before he could change his mind.

      She tilted her head slightly, and frowned. “What do you mean?”

      His brothers were right. He was crazy. Not to mention so far out of control his common sense had deserted him…again.

      She’s not like the others, his conscience rallied. Or was that his libido talking? Did it really matter? He didn’t think so.

      “What if you had someone willing to see to it that you’re safe?” There. He’d said it. No taking the words back now.

      “I don’t know anyone.” She blinked back the moisture suddenly shining in her eyes. “I don’t know anything,” she said, her voice tight.

      “Tell this Sutter woman I’ll care for you.” The ground slipped out from under him as he stepped off the cliff into a sea of insanity. His own history with the opposite sex should have had him running in the opposite direction. But how could he turn his back on Maggie when she needed him the most?

      He couldn’t. And that’s when the trouble always started.

      Her smile was thin as she swiped at the tears with her good hand. “That’s very sweet of you, Cale. But it still doesn’t solve my problem. Besides, what if Mrs. Sutter decided to check on me.”

      He had his doubts on that score. “So what if she does? In any case, it’ll never happen. The heavy case-load of the social system in this county prohibits extravagances. The social workers spend their time on only the most severe cases, and, Maggie, you hardly qualify as a severe case.”

      He reached across the bed and grabbed her hand again. He wanted to do more than hold her hand, he wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her close, promise her everything would be okay in the end. It didn’t matter that her future was uncertain. The urge to comfort her was strong, just as strong as the need to feel her soft curves pressed against him.

      He smoothed his thumb over her slender fingers. “You call Mrs. Sutter and tell her you’ve got a place to go tomorrow when they release you, and that’ll be the end of it. You can stay at my place for as long as you need.”

      She snatched her hand away. “No—”

      “Just until you get your memory back.” He moved from the chair and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. He braced his hands on the mattress to bracket her hips, his body stirring at the closeness. Momentarily distracted by the shape of her mouth, he simply stared.

      “I couldn’t,” she said, but she didn’t sound convincing.

      “Yes, you can. Look, aren’t your doctors saying it could only be a few days until your memory returns? Do you really want to go to a long-term care facility?”

      She shook her head, and a hank of fiery hair fell over her shoulder. The wavy ends teased the slope of her breasts beneath the cotton hospital gown. “Or maybe a few weeks, or months, or even never. You’ve already been so kind to me, Cale. I won’t ask any more of you.”

      “You aren’t asking,” he argued. “I’m offering.”

      He understood her fear, or at least he liked to think he did. The truth wasn’t that simple. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like not to know where he came from or the members of his own family. Of course, when his brothers learned he’d brought home a total stranger, they’d be convinced he’d taken leave of his common sense for sure this time.

      Where Maggie was concerned, they were probably right. Didn’t he have enough disastrous relationships in his past to prove their arguments? Okay, so maybe there was some truth here. But, none of those women was Maggie. She genuinely needed his help. He wasn’t offering a permanent solution, only a temporary one.

      “Cases that last that long are the exception, Maggie, not the rule,” he said gently.

      “I don’t know…”

      “Come stay with me, just until we can figure out where you really belong. I’ve got a quiet little place near the beach and a bedroom to spare. You’ll be perfectly safe there, and it’s a hell of a lot better than some sterile environment where you’ll just be another name on a chart.”

      “I might not even live in L.A.,” she argued. “Or California for that matter. Maybe I was just passing through and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe I was visiting someone.”

      “Then why hasn’t anyone else come to see you? And why wasn’t anyone else at the scene when we found you?”

      She dropped her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, but not before he saw defeat pass through them.

      “It’ll give you a quiet, peaceful place to recuperate and when I’m off duty, maybe I can help you find out who you really are.”

      She opened her eyes. “But…how can I?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a complete stranger. I don’t even know you.”

      “You don’t even know yourself at this point,” he said dryly.

      “Exactly.” She sat up again. “What if I’m a serial killer or something equally horrible? How do you know I won’t rob you blind? You wouldn’t even know who to tell the police to arrest.”

      Cale chuckled. “The perfect crime.”

      “It’s not funny.”

      Lifting his hand, he gently smoothed his knuckles over her satiny cheek. “What other choice do you have, Maggie? It’s either me or a state facility.”

      “You’re not giving me much by way of options, are you?”

      “You don’t have a lot of options,” he said truthfully, lowering his hand. “It’s me or the funny farm, babe.”

      “I don’t think I’m used to being told what to do.” She shot him a frustrated СКАЧАТЬ