He stopped in his tracks, her cotton gown fisted in his hand, his entire body tense. "Would you like to?"

He'd answered her question with one of his own, which didn't tell her what she wanted to know. Hell, maybe she slept in the nude and he was just trying to preserve her modesty until she felt better.

It wasn't necessary. "I'd love to sleep in one of your shirts, as long as you don't mind."

"Not at all." Back at the dresser, he withdrew an extra-large white T-shirt and gave it to her, his movements quick and efficient. He disappeared back into the bathroom, turned off the water and returned seconds later. "The tub is full and waiting for you. Can you handle things from here, or do you need help?"

Oh, she was sorely tempted to tell him she needed his assistance, just because she wanted to feel his hands on her naked flesh as he undressed her. And she certainly wouldn't mind having him scrub her back or wash the rest of her body while he was at it. She shivered at the sensual thought.

But while he seemed concerned for her welfare, there was a sudden reserve about him that puzzled her, and she didn't push the issue. "Don't worry about me, Noah. I'll be fine."

"Leave the door open," he said, grabbing a pair of gray cotton sweatpants for himself. "I'll be downstairs in my office, so just call me if you need anything."

And then he was gone, making her wonder why he didn't change in front of her if they lived together. Shrugging her shoulders and refusing to let such an inconsequential thought hurt her already tired brain, she stepped into the bathroom. She was greeted by a fragrant cloud of steam and a large tub brimming with water and bubbles. She spotted her floral body wash beside the tub, knowing that Noah had thoughtfully added it to the water.

After stripping off her clothes, she rummaged through the drawers, recognizing her stuff and finding a scrunchie for her hair. She rubbed a spot clean on the fogged mirror and proceeded to pull the shoulder-length strands into a ponytail so they wouldn't get wet.

She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, drawing her gaze to the lush curves of her body. Absently, she cupped her large breasts in her palms and grazed her fingers over the tips. She shivered as her nipples puckered and tingled. Closing her eyes, she touched elsewhere, skimming her hands over intimate dips and hollows.

She imagined it was Noah caressing her, and her heart thumped hard in her chest as her body came vibrantly alive, as if something deep inside of her was gradually awakening, demanding attention and release. Her skin grew damp from the moisture in the bathroom and her own arousal, her nerves strung tight, and the provocative sensations grew stronger with every slick slide of her hands, along with a carnal craving that stole her breath.

She felt sexual and sensual, her response wrapped up in illicit fantasies of Noah. He was the only connection she had to the past and present and the burning, aching need consuming her. She needed him in ways even she didn't understand, but she trusted him, with her body and even her lost soul. And while there were still so many gaps in her mind, there was one thing she knew for certain.

The erotic hunger within her wouldn't be denied much longer.

Chapter Four

Noah yanked off his clothes, flung them onto the small leather couch in his downstairs office and pulled on his cotton sweatpants, forgoing a shirt as he always did at night. Sitting behind his desk, he picked up the piece of paper with the florist's name and phone number he'd jotted down at the hospital earlier, intent on focusing his restless energy on business.

Instead, sinful, brazen thoughts ruthlessly intruded, of Natalie upstairs in the bathtub, naked and wet, her skin soft, sleek and fragrant. The vivid mental image of touching all that feminine flesh with his hands and tasting it with slow, leisurely licks of his tongue gave him a thick, rampant hard-on, which was becoming a too frequent occurrence when it came to her. One that was getting more and more difficult to control.

He shifted in his seat, which did nothing to help ease his throbbing discomfort. He groaned and scrubbed a hand along his taut jaw. Being chivalrous was killing him in excruciatingly slow degrees, and Natalie wasn't helping matters by sending out tempting sexual vibes that were doing a damn good job of weakening his resolve.

Her uninhibited behavior was understandable in her amnesiac state because she had no clear recollection of her reserved response to him before the accident. Yet he found it hard to reconcile the trusting, sensual creature she was now with the self-contained woman she'd been around him before the accident. The two were complete opposites, but both were enigmas with secrets he wanted to unearth and explore.

He suspected her current open mind-set had a lot to do with the fact that she believed they were engaged and living together. That sense of security gave her more freedom to be affectionate and flirtatious, daring even. It was a playful side to her that he enjoyed, yet the contrast made him even more curious as to what had kept her so reserved and private before the accident. What had been so devastating that she'd kept herself at arm's length and lived such a solitary life? Obviously, it had something to do with the haunting fear he'd witnessed right before and after she'd kissed him in that dark shop alcove.

He had every intention of discovering the answer to that particular question. Her past obviously affected the present and her future-as well as any chance he might have with her. But along with his determination to make sense of the mystery she'd become, he couldn't help but wonder, and worry, that once her memories returned, would she retreat from him yet again?

The possibility made his gut twist. He knew his time with her was limited, and that meant using their current predicament to cement an emotional bond between them that would last beyond finding the guy who was stalking her. And during their time together he had to resist her newfound femininity and sexy overtures. He wasn't about to take advantage of her mind's current inability to remember their prior platonic relationship.

His still-hard erection mocked him. He was a man with a healthy sexual drive, and he'd been celibate too long because he hadn't wanted any other woman except for Natalie for months now. Having her in his house, in his bed, was going to be pure torture.

With a harsh breath, he cleared his mind of his sorry aroused state and reached for the phone. He dialed Bobby's cell phone number, and his friend answered on the second ring.

"Malone here," he said, his tone curt and businesslike.

"Hey, it's Noah. I need to ask a favor."

"You got it." Bobby's reply was automatic. As good friends who worked in the same investigative field, they often traded professional favors. "What's up?"

"I need you to do a check on something for me." Leaning back in his chair, Noah explained about the bouquet of flowers that had been delivered to Natalie at the hospital and the ominous note attached. "Could you stop at the florist shop, flash your badge and find out who sent the arrangement? I want a name and address and a credit card number if the perp used one."

"Consider it done. In fact, I was just heading out to get a bite to eat and I'll swing by the florist afterward."

"Great." Noah gave him the address of the place. "I'd do it myself, but I don't want to leave Natalie alone." And he obviously didn't want her going with him, since she believed he'd been the one to send the arrangement.

"By the way, how is she doing?" Bobby asked.

"Pretty good. She's accepted the situation, which makes things easier for me."

Bobby chuckled. "As opposed to harder?" he joked.

Noah winced at Bobby's well-aimed innuendo. His friend knew him too well. "Call me when you have the information, wise guy." He hung up the phone before Bobby could give him any more flack.

He glanced at the clock-thirty minutes had passed since he'd left Natalie upstairs. Figuring he'd check on her before Bobby called back, he headed up to his room. She hadn't completely shut the bathroom door, and he didn't care for the silence that greeted him.

Slowly, he pushed open the door. "Natalie?" he called softly, not wanting to frighten her but concerned about her not responding.

No answer, so he stepped inside, his gaze immediately drawn to the woman who'd fallen asleep in his tub. She was submerged to her neck, her head resting against the rim, and there were just enough bubbles to keep her decently covered-and to preserve his sanity. Thank God.

He hunkered down next to the tub and gently skimmed his fingers over her warm, flushed cheek. "Natalie, honey, wake up."

Her lashes fluttered open, and she smiled up at him drowsily. "I fell asleep," she murmured.

"You most certainly did." Standing, he grabbed the big fluffy towel hanging over the brass rod so he could leave it within reaching distance for her before he bolted back out of the bathroom. "You need to get out of the tub, get dressed and into bed."

Just as he turned back around to face her she stood up, without wearing an ounce of timidity, or anything else for that matter. His breath left his lungs painfully and the last bit of his fortitude fled as he stared in awed fascination at the rivulets of water sluicing down her centerfold body.

Mouth dry, his avid gaze followed the sleek trail of moisture, taking in her plump, full breasts tipped with dusky pink areolas and nipples as hard as pebbles that all but begged for him to nibble, lick and suck. He was certain he could span her tiny waist with his big hands, and she had the sexiest navel he'd ever seen. The dewy thatch of honey-blond curls between her thighs teased his imagination of what lay beyond, and those endlessly long legs of hers were made to bring a man to his knees and tempt him to sin.