Pregnesia. Carla Cassidy

it look silky soft and that he smelled like soap and shaving cream and a hint of a clean cologne. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

      Since the moment she’d told him that she didn’t know who she was, that she had no idea what had happened to her, she’d sensed his suspicious disbelief. And she wasn’t sure why it was so important to her that he accept what she was telling him.

      “I don’t know what I believe,” he finally replied. “I think it’s possible you had a fight with your boyfriend or husband or whatever, and you need a safe place to hide out until things cool off and the two of you can kiss and make up.”

      She reached up and touched her forehead with a frown. “I can’t imagine wanting to kiss and make up with anyone who did this to me.”

      He picked up his fork. “He’ll buy you flowers or candy and swear he’ll never touch you again and you’ll end up going back and things will be great until the next time he loses his temper.” His voice held a harshness in tone.

      “I wouldn’t be involved with a man like that,” she exclaimed.

      He raised a dark eyebrow. “How do you know?”

      She felt the warmth of a blush on her cheeks. “I might not know who I am, but I know what I’d tolerate, and I’d never stay with a man who put his hands on me.”

      She felt a swell of tears burning at her eyes and bit them back. She’d cried herself to sleep the night before and had awakened and cried some more. She was tired of crying. “Maybe nobody hit me. Maybe I just fell and hit my head on something,” she said.

      “I don’t think so,” he replied. “Do you have bruised knees? Scraped-up palms? Anything that might indicate you’d fallen?”

      “No.”

      “That scrape on your head doesn’t look like it’s the result of a fall. It looks like you were hit with something.” He leaned forward and she realized his dark eyes had tiny shards of silver in them. “You know, if you’re just scared and need a place to hang out for a couple of days, it’s all right to tell me. You don’t have to make up any stories.”

      “I’m not making anything up. I don’t know what to do to make you believe me. I don’t know what to say to make you understand that I’m not lying.”

      Those dark eyes of his studied her intently. “Eat your eggs and toast before they get cold.”

      They ate for a few minutes without speaking, until she couldn’t stand the tense silence another minute longer. “Your sister seems really nice,” she said.

      He nodded. “She’s a sucker for people in need.”

      “And you’re not?”

      The corners of his lips turned up in a humorless smile. “I’m not a sucker for anyone or anything.”

      “I know your sister is a nurse, but I’m not sure exactly what it is you do.”

      “I own a company, Recovery Inc., with two of my friends. We were all Navy SEALs together, and when we got out of the service we opened the business.”

      “And you repossess cars?”

      He frowned, as if the question irritated him. “Last night was not our normal kind of job. I did that as a favor for the owner of the car dealership.”

      “So, what is your normal kind of job?” she asked. It was a welcome relief to be wondering about him instead of wondering about herself.

      “We recover items and return them to the people they belong to. But it’s really not important what I do. What’s important is what we’re going to do about you.”

      “I should probably go. I’m really not your problem.” She tried to ignore the terror that coursed through her at the thought of having to leave, of not knowing where she would go.

      “If I let you leave under these conditions, Loretta will have my head,” he replied. He stood and grabbed their plates from the table and carried them to the sink. “Our first order of business today is to get you a few things from the store. You need a change of clothing and some personal items if you’re going to stay here for a couple of days.”

      She felt terrible. She didn’t want to take advantage of either Loretta or Lucas. But no matter how much she wanted to claim back her own life, she didn’t know where to begin.

      “I can’t believe this,” she said more to herself than to him. Once again she directed her gaze out the window where the sun hid beneath a blanket of low gray clouds. She felt as if the sun was her memory, hiding someplace inside her and refusing to come out into the light.

      She looked at him once again and cradled her stomach with her arms. “If it were just me, I’d leave. I’d never take advantage of your kindness.”

      He leaned against the counter, those dark eyes of his impossible to read. “I’ll go to my place and get you a T-shirt and a jacket, and we’ll head to Wal-Mart to pick up what you need.”

      “Whatever you buy for me, I’ll pay you back. I swear I will just as soon as I figure out who I am and where I belong.” She frowned and tried to ignore the headache that had begun to pound across the top of her head. “Maybe as the day wears on, something will jiggle my memory.”

      She couldn’t imagine going day after day with no memories, with no knowledge of something as simple as her own name.

      “Maybe,” he replied. He shoved off from the counter. “I’ll just get that shirt and jacket. I’ll be right back.”

      As he left the kitchen she leaned back in her chair and drew a deep breath. She raised a hand and touched the scab that had formed on her forehead.

      What had happened to her? Why couldn’t she remember? What if a couple of days passed and she still didn’t know who she was, or where she belonged? What then? She couldn’t just continue to stay here forever. She could take advantage of Loretta’s kindness only so long.

      She dropped her hand to her belly and rubbed with a caressing motion. She thought the baby was a boy. Of course she didn’t remember anyone telling her that, had no concrete memory, it was just something she knew. Like she knew that she hated peanut butter and loved pizza.

      Lucas returned with the large T-shirt and a down-filled navy ski jacket. She took the shirt and returned to the bedroom where she’d slept to put it on.

      Her bloodstained blouse was probably ruined. She couldn’t imagine any laundry detergent that would be able to wash away all traces of the blood.

      Lucas’s T-shirt hung across her slender shoulders and pulled slightly across her belly, but wearing the clean cotton material that smelled faintly of fabric softener made her feel better.

      She left the bedroom and found Lucas waiting for her on the sofa. He stood as she entered the room, his gaze sliding from the top of her head down to her belly.

      Self-consciously she placed a hand on her stomach. “Your shirt isn’t exactly made for two,” she said. “I hope I don’t stretch it too much.”

      “I’m not worried about it,” he replied, and held out the coat to help her into it.

      It easily wrapped around her and along with its warmth brought that scent of him, that pleasant fragrance of clean cologne and male. She found it oddly comforting.

      “Ready?” he asked.

      She nodded and together they left Loretta’s apartment and walked out into the hallway. “Am I keeping you from a wife or a girlfriend?” she asked as they passed his apartment door.

      “No, you aren’t keeping me from anything or anyone,” he replied.

      “What about your job? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

      He flashed her a quick smile. It was the first smile she’d seen from him and it shot a flutter of warmth through her. “One