Chapter Two

Finally warm, dry, and comfortable, Dezarae slipped back into her bedroom to check on her “guest.” He had drunk the cup of broth she had made for him but she wanted to wake him up every now and then. His head injury was cleaned and bandaged and, as she looked at him, she saw he was sleeping comfortably.

Gathering up his wet clothes, she searched for any kind of identification and couldn’t find a single thing. No wallet, nothing.

“Well,” she whispered as she took his clothes out of the room and put them in the washer. “I sure hope you aren’t a serial killer.” After the load was set, she returned to her room.

“Wake up,” she said softly. Nothing. Fearing the worst, Dezarae reached down to pat him on the cheek. “Hey,” she spoke in a normal tone. “Wake up.”

The second her hand landed on his stubbled face, her wrist was caught in an ironclad grasp. Panicked, she flashed her eyes to his and found herself looking into the steeliest gunmetal eyes she had ever seen. They were alert and they scared her.

Ross had an instinctive reaction when her hand touched his face. Without conscious thought, he grabbed her wrist in his hand. She gave a frightened gasp as her eyes moved up to meet his.

Chocolate. Sinfully dark chocolates were what her eyes reminded him of.

She was pretty, if he wanted to think about it. A thick green sweatshirt and a pair of black sweatpants concealed most of her figure from him, but he would guess she was very curvaceous. A large pair of fuzzy red slippers was on her feet, as if she had killed Elmo or Animal to make them. Her skin was brown, nut-brown, and he would put her height at about five-five. Her hair was thick and curly, hanging down past her shoulders, framing her face gently. Her lips were full and lush.

But it was her eyes that got him. They were dark and stared directly at him with concern and a little bit of fear.

He wished he knew who she was.

A pink tongue snuck out and licked full dusky lips. “Can you let me go please? I am not going to hurt you. I just had to wake you up.” Dezarae could feel the intense pounding of her heart. “Please, you’re hurting me.”

Those eyes never left hers as he dropped her wrist as if it burned him. He remained silent as she stood straight and rubbed her sore wrist. “Sorry I frightened you but I was worried that you had fallen unconscious again,” she muttered, still absently rubbing the area.

Those smoky eyes moved down her body slowly and back up again, making Dezarae feel as if she stood before him totally naked. When that intense gaze reached her eyes again, she felt flushed.

Damn it. No man has made me feel like this before. At least not a man I don’t know and have never met. Swallowing to give herself extra time to regain her composure, Dezarae tried to affect an indifferent expression.

“Can you stay awake until I get you some more broth to drink?” she asked, glad he didn’t know her well enough to know just how affected her voice sounded.

Still, all he did was stare at her. Jesus that is one unnerving stare. “I will take that as a ‘Yes.’ I’ll be right back.” Dezarae fled to the solitude of her kitchen and made him another cup of broth. By the time it was ready, her heartbeat had returned to normal.

This time she knocked on the doorframe before she walked in, holding the cup as if it would keep her safe from him and his stare. With determined steps, she moved to the bedside and held it out to him even as his eyes held hers.

“Here, drink this.” His gazed flicked from the cup to her face. My God, he is suspicious. “What, you think it’s poisoned?”

His eyes narrowed as they moved from her face down her chest and back again. They stared into her soul and assessed her. Unnerved her.

“Look.” She put the cup up to her lips and took a drink of the warm liquid. “It is fine; now, come on, you need to get some nourishment in you.” Dezarae offered him the cup again.

One strong, tanned hand reached up and took the cup from hers. A quivering began in her belly as his fingers grazed against hers. Bringing the cup to his mouth at the very last second, he turned it and drank from the exact spot where she had put her lips. Those gray eyes never left hers as he drained the cup.

What would it be like to have his lips on mine? Guess he doesn’t have anything against me yet. Knees trembling from the erotic picture his lips touching the same place as hers had, she took the cup back and swallowed. Now was as good a time as any. “Who are you?”

He blinked and looked almost hesitant. Dark, masculine brows furrowed in thought only to scrunch to-gether tighter before he looked up at her and said in a confused voice, “I don’t know.”