A Hard Man to Forget (3 page)

Preferably not today. She mustered a smile. “Why don’t we
talk about something more pleasant? How are your cases going?”
Jason was a lawyer. He’d helped her get the job at the
courthouse.

His brows went up with mock severity. “Nothing I can share. I
wouldn’t want to be accused of influencing court personnel.”

“You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

They shared a laugh over that. The tension seemed to ebb as they
focused on their lunch, but Laura sensed something had changed. The
eyes that watched her from across the table were colder somehow, more
assessing. Perhaps she was too late in hoping things could stay the
same.

Stifling a sigh, Laura felt a headache building at her temples.

This day couldn’t be over soon enough.

UNFORTUNATELY, THE REST of the day dragged on as endlessly as lunch.
Laura felt every second tick away with painful slowness. The case
being argued in the courtroom she was assigned to was dull beyond
belief, and she had to shake herself every so often to keep from
drifting off, usually to thoughts of the man from the park.

It was six o’clock by the time she arrived home. She was
tempted to do nothing but sink into a hot bath, but the idea of being
cooped up inside and sitting around after she’d done nothing
else all day held little appeal. The intense heat had cooled somewhat
by early evening, and she decided to go for a run. From the earliest
days of her physical therapy in the hospital, doing something
physical had provided a welcome outlet for—and distraction
from—all the confusion and stress she’d had to deal with.
She’d continued to run several times a week, both because she
remembered all-too well a time when she couldn’t, and because
it still was a good way to deal with any tension or anxiety. With any
luck, the physical exertion might help her clear her head. Quickly
changing into her running clothes, she grabbed her iPod and set out,
taking the building’s rear exit to head through the back of the
neighborhood.

By the time she made it back to her street an hour later, she was
feeling a lot better, the dark-eyed stranger all but forgotten,
nothing on her mind but the songs pumping from her earbuds and the
steady rhythm of her arms and legs moving.

As she made it back to her block, she was already anticipating a cold
drink of water, her gaze automatically going to her building up
ahead.

And then she saw him.

Her steps faltered and she stumbled slightly, slowing almost to a
walk, her feet still pumping automatically.

He was coming down the path in the front of her building, heading
away from it.

It was him. The man from the courthouse. It didn’t seem
possible, but there was no denying it. He was here, at her home. As
though the mere thought of him had made him appear where he most
definitely didn’t belong.

What was he doing here? She finally staggered to a stop, deeply wary,
uncertain what to do.

She watched as he moved toward the street, stepping into it without
stopping, his head lowered as though he was deep in thought. There
was a car parked on the other side, directly opposite her building.
The perfect place to watch it? To watch for her?

He was halfway across the street when he abruptly glanced up, perhaps
just realizing he’d stepped out into the road without looking
first. Her heart stopped as his gaze moved to the street—then
slowly shifted and found her.

He immediately froze, coming to a halt right in the middle of the
street and turning to face her.

Again there was that feeling of…something as their eyes met.
They simply stared at each other across the distance. The intensity
in that unyielding black gaze struck her as strongly as it had
before. A cold trickle slid down her spine, a sharp contrast to the
sweat she’d felt there just moments ago. Only now did she
realize what was behind the intensity in his eyes.

Anger. No,
fury
. At her.

Whoever this man was, he was incredibly angry with her. It didn’t
matter that it made no sense. It was true nonetheless.

Who was he? Why would he be angry with her?

Whatever the answer, it wasn’t good. And she knew without a
doubt she wasn’t ready for it, her wariness spiking.

She had to get out of here.

Without thinking, she sprang into motion, spinning left, away from
him, stepping out into the road—

The impact came out of nowhere. She didn’t even know if her
foot managed to touch the pavement. She only felt something hard and
solid slamming into her side, throwing her clear off her feet,
knocking the air from her lungs. Pain shot through her hip, her leg,
her side.

A car
, she registered distantly. She hadn’t looked,
hadn’t heard it with her earbuds still in—

And then she was falling, tumbling, turning in midair—

Crashing, rolling, hard against the ground—

She landed hard on her back, pain exploding anew in her shoulders and
rear. Before she could absorb them, the back of her head smacked
against the pavement. She felt the flash of pain, saw the stars
explode in front of her eyes before blackness rapidly surfaced to
swallow her.

Then…nothing.

IT ALL HAPPENED SO QUICKLY Simon barely had time to process what he
was seeing.

The car lurching away from the curb.

Meredith stepping into the street a split second afterward, or maybe
at the same time. Too fast for the driver to know she’d been
about to move in front of the vehicle, too fast for her to see the
car.

He didn’t have a chance to call out, to even open his mouth,
before the car struck her from the side. She wasn’t far enough
in the street for it to catch her head-on. The front clipped her on
the hip, sending her into the air and rolling over the hood. She
tumbled over it, falling over the side and landing on her back in the
middle of the street.

Then the car was racing straight toward him.

Simon immediately dived to his left, springing off the balls of his
feet and hurtling to the side. He crashed down onto the ground, pain
shooting through his hands and arms and knees as he came down hard on
them. He felt the rush of air as the car blasted by, the gust strong
enough to let him know just how close the vehicle had come to hitting
him.

The way it had Meredith.

The memory broke through his shock. He twisted his head to find her.

She was lying on her back on the pavement, utterly still.

His pain immediately forgotten, he scrambled to his feet and he raced
over to her, falling to his knees at her side.

For just a moment, he looked at her, everything else forgotten as he
took in the woman lying before him. This was the first time he was
seeing her up close, her features clear and unmistakable. Even if
he’d had any doubts remaining, they were gone now.

Meredith. She was undeniably Meredith.

Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. He didn’t detect
any irregularity in her breath patterns. He reached out for her wrist
to test her pulse, and found it steady and strong, her skin warm to
the touch. There was no blood. She appeared to be okay physically,
though it couldn’t be good that she was unconscious. The impact
hadn’t been strong enough to do serious damage.

Damn it, it could have though. He shot an angry glance behind him.

His anger only grew at what he saw.

The driver hadn’t even stopped. The street behind him was
empty.

No, the whole neighborhood seemed empty, he realized. He didn’t
hear any voices, anyone calling out to see if they were okay. He
desperately glanced around for help, seeking any onlookers, anyone in
view.

There was no one. The street remained empty. No one approached. No
one emerged from any of the neighboring houses. No one seemed to have
noticed what had happened at all.

Damn it
. Swallowing a curse, he reached in his pocket for his
phone. He had to call someone. The police. Paramedics. As soon as he
had the phone in hand, he started to dial—

Only to stop before he’d hit two digits.

He froze, thumb poised above the panel, his thoughts quickly
anticipating what would happen.

If he called an ambulance, she would be taken away. He couldn’t
explain who he was. It would raise too many questions. Maybe it would
even look suspicious, that she would be in a car accident so soon
after he found her. The police might hold him up, keep him from
seeing her long after she woke. It was as he’d feared when he’d
seen her with the cop that afternoon. She would have a chance to
escape. She could get away again, permanently this time.

No.

Every part of him immediately recoiled, his body tensing under the
strength of his reaction.

No. He couldn’t let her get away again. Not this time. Not
before he had answers. He’d waited long enough.

Slowly he lowered the phone. And as he looked down at the woman
before him, he knew what he had to do.

Laura awoke so suddenly it didn’t seem as though anything had
changed at first. One moment she was floating, weightless, in a black
void, not exactly asleep, but not conscious either. The next her eyes
were open. She remained surrounded by darkness, and the lush softness
beneath her preserved the illusion of floating.

She slowly became aware of the texture of the fabric beneath her
fingers, the feel of the blanket she was lying on. Her eyes adapted
to the dark, enough so she could see the outlines of a canopy above
her head and the posts at the four corners of the bed. There was a
dim yellow glow visible out of the corner of her eye. She turned her
head, but could see nothing but the voluminous folds of the bed.

Confusion settled in like a heavy weight on her mind, along with a
vague sense of unease. This wasn’t her bed. Not even close. Her
mouth was dry and her limbs sluggish. And for the life of her she
couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. She couldn’t
remember anything she’d gone running, and—

An involuntary gasp bounced from her lips. It was quickly swallowed
up in the layers around her.

“So you’re awake.”

The voice, low and unmistakably masculine, drifted to her from the
shadows. Panic shot through her muscles, revealing a thousand aches
all over her body. Ignoring them, Laura scrambled into a sitting
position and retreated to the back of the mattress.

Narrowing her eyes, she focused on the spot of light at the end of
the bed. The rest of the room was dark, the details indistinct. It
took a moment for her eyes to make out the figure of a man sitting in
the light. A lamp, she realized. His features pulled together into a
familiar face.

Recognition settled in. “You!”

The look in his hooded eyes was sardonic. “At least you’re
no longer pretending you don’t know me.”

“You’re the man from the park.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Every trace of humor fled his
expression, and there hadn’t been that much to begin with.
“Still playing games, Meredith? I thought you would have
realized the jig is up.”

There was no warmth in his voice. That wasn’t why she trembled
at the sound of it. Sandpaper rough, the husky bass of it seemed to
set off a seismic reaction in every cell of her body, causing them to
reverberate off the low timbre. She didn’t like the feeling. Or
maybe she liked it a little too much. Because his voice told her he
was a sensual person.

His words told her he was insane.

She struggled to keep her voice calm and meet his relentless gaze.
“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”

“You haven’t been gone that long, Meredith. Surely you
haven’t forgotten your own bed. You picked out the damn sheets.
I thought you might like one night at home before you face the
consequences of your actions tomorrow.”

She definitely didn’t like the sound of that. Laura knotted her
hands in the comforter to keep them from shaking. “Listen, pal.
I think there’s been some kind of mistake. If you let me go, I
promise no one has to know about this. I won’t tell the cops.
You won’t go to jail or anything.”

The man—she didn’t even know his name—had the
audacity to look amused. “If anyone goes to jail, it won’t
be me.”

“You kidnapped me!”

“If you say so.”

“Well, what would you call it?” she snapped.

“I came to the aid of someone after an accident.”

The moments after she’d seen him in front of her building, when
she’d been struck by something, came back with painful
vividness. “And you didn’t think of calling an ambulance?
I could have been seriously hurt.”

“You weren’t. I could see that. And I couldn’t take
a chance on you getting away again without explaining yourself.”

“So we’re back to this being a kidnapping.”

“More like a ‘citizen’s arrest.’”

She gawked at him and his damnable passiveness. “I haven’t
committed any crime!”

“The last time I checked, faking your own death was illegal.”

“I faked...” Incredulous, she couldn’t finish the
sentence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

He lunged at her, moving so fast she didn’t realize what he was
doing. One moment he was in the chair, the next he was at the
bedside, towering over her. She lurched back into the corner of the
bed, withdrawing from the force of his presence and the words he
rained down upon her.

“Just stop it, Meredith! You were never much of a liar and I
don’t believe you any more now than I did then, especially not
after everything you put me through.”

Laura stared up at him, frozen in terror. He was a tall man, not
particularly muscular, but whipcord lean. In a black T-shirt and
jeans, he shouldn’t have looked dangerous. He did. There was
more to this man than his handsome exterior. He exuded an aura of
danger, the same one she’d detected that evening. If it had
been that evening. She realized in a panic that she didn’t know
how long she’d been unconscious. At the moment it seemed the
least of her problems.