Regardless, his presence soothed her, grounded her, and she was grateful that she hadn't woken up alone. "Hi, there," she said, her voice husky from slumber and thirst.

He swallowed hard, then finally graced her with that sexy smile that never failed to jump-start her pulse. That exciting tingling through her veins was an incredibly nice way to greet the morning, though she couldn't ever recall waking up with this man next to her.

Not that it had or hadn't happened. She just couldn't-remember. Her mind felt muddled, foggy and disoriented, and the inability to grasp any kind of clear recollection of them frustrated her.

"Hi, yourself, sweetheart," he murmured, his tone low and rough.

Sweetheart. Yeah, she definitely liked the sound of that. And she knew that he'd used that sentiment with her before.

He straightened in his seat, then stretched his arms over his head to loosen the kinks that had no doubt cramped parts of his body due to his awkward sleeping position. Muscles flexed beneath his T-shirt and along his arms as he arched his back and reached high. He groaned in relief, and she enjoyed every bit of the male display.

"You snore," she said in amusement.

"I'm sorry." He cringed at that bit of information, instantly contrite. "Did I wake you?"

"No, actually it was a cute snore and not at all obnoxious."

He laughed, the rumbling sound sending a pleasant vibration along her nerve endings. "Well, it's certainly good to know that you think my snores are cute, but don't tell anyone else because, for one thing, I'll never hear the end of it and, for another, it'll be a huge blow to my masculinity."

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." She smiled, curious to know if they shared any other private intimacies. "I need something to drink. Is there any water?"

"Sure is." He raised the top of her mattress so she was sitting up, then rilled a plastic glass on the tray next to her bed. Bringing the straw to her lips, he watched her take a drink, his concerned gaze roaming over her face. "You sound better than I'd expected this morning, but how are you really feeling?"

She swallowed one last gulp of cool water, relieving her dry, scratchy throat. "My head is throbbing and I feel bruised, battered and achy. Like I got hit by a car."

He chuckled lightly at her wry tone and tipped his head. "You remember?"

"Not much, if anything at all." She sighed and settled back against her pillows. "Actually, one of the nurses told me what happened when I asked last night. That's how I know. I'm still kind of sketchy on the details, though."

He took a long drink of water from her glass and set it aside. "That's okay. It'll eventually come to you. I'm just glad to see your beautiful eyes are wide open and clear. You gave us all quite a scare."

"Us all?"

Nodding, he perched his hip on the mattress next to her waist and placed her hand between his. His thumb drew lazy patterns over her knuckles. "Me, my brother, Melodie, Bobby, and everyone at Murphy's."

She thought hard to place who those people were. Struck with a sudden dull ache at her temple, she pressed her fingers against the sore spot. "The names are familiar, but why can't I place their faces?" she asked, annoyed with her inability to do so.

He hesitated, his gentle caresses stopping. Then he asked very carefully, "Didn't the doctor tell you?"

By the tone of his voice and the troubled look marring his brows, she was certain she wasn't going to enjoy what he had to say. "Tell me what?"

He released a deep breath. Now that the issue had been brought up, it was obvious that he felt obligated to carry it through. "About your amnesia."

"Amnesia?" Her voice rose to an incredulous pitch, and she experienced an adrenaline rush of distress. "But I remember you." Which was why she hadn't been overly alarmed at the other little things she couldn't recollect. But now that he'd used the word amnesia, her lack of recall made more sense, not that she liked it one bit.

"And thank God for that." He tenderly brushed her hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin. "But there are other things you might not remember."

Well, she certainly couldn't argue with his statement. Stunned, she could only shake her head in wonder and fear. How strange it was not to recall certain parts of your life, yet know other things so instinctively. Like her inexplicable emotional and physical connection to Noah.

"Tell me what the doctor told you," she asked, and listened to him explain her level of amnesia, and that while she might be able to remember certain aspects of her past and current life, other things might not be clear at all.

She shook her head in shock. "Is this retrograde amnesia permanent?"

"Not according to the doctor," he reassured her. "You suffered a huge trauma when you hit your head, and he said that you'll start remembering things in bits and pieces over the course of the next few weeks or months. He's confident that you'll have a full recovery in time."

She shivered as a chill rippled through her. "But in the meantime, I've only got half a memory? How frightening is that?"

He gave her hand a tender squeeze. "I know it has to be scary, but I promise I'll be here for you."

Knowing she could count on Noah brought her immense comfort, because at the moment she was feeling incredibly alone and vulnerable. "Thank you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He bent close and brushed a kiss on her cheek.

His lips were warm and sensual, the scent of him musky and all male. His morning stubble lightly chafed her skin, eliciting a stirring of desire in her blood. Her heart beat hard and fast in her chest, and she was surprised that the monitor she was hooked up to didn't go haywire. When he lifted his head again and met her gaze, his eyes were dark and intense.

She exhaled a slow breath as they stared at each other. She craved and wanted this man in inexplicable ways that defied her current state of mind, and all she knew for certain was that the feeling was honest and true. She trusted her instincts where Noah was concerned, because, for now, her gut intuition was all she had to depend on.

A nurse walked into the room, shattering the intimate moment between them. Noah sat back in his chair as the woman came up to the side of her bed and started adjusting the IV drip. She wore a pastel smock, and the badge hanging around her neck identified her as Shirley Richards, RN.

"You're awake," she said pleasantly, and smiled at Natalie. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"As good as can be expected."

The nurse nodded in understanding. "I'll give you another dose of medication to help with the aches and pains. You'll be sore for a few days, but you're darn lucky that you didn't sustain any internal injuries." She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and pumped it full of air.

As Shirley took her vitals, she glanced across the bed to Noah, then back at Natalie. "You've got yourself quite a fiance there," she said genuinely. "He was determined to stay with you and has been by your side all night long waiting for you to wake up."

Her eyes widened as she was dealt another dose of shock to deal with. Her fiance? She and Noah were engaged? She snuck a peek at her left hand and saw no evidence of an engagement ring but knew that didn't mean anything at all. Undoubtedly, this man was part of her life in some capacity, and when Noah didn't deny or correct the woman's comment, she had no choice but to believe it was true.

And belonging to Noah wasn't an unpleasant thought at all.

"I'm thinking you might need to use the rest room, yes?" Shirley asked once she'd written her numbers down on the chart in front of her bed.

Natalie smiled sheepishly. "That would be nice."

"You should be okay to get up on your own, but I'll be here to help you the first time, just to make sure your legs are steady and you don't get lightheaded. And then there's all the IV stuff that can get in your way." The nurse transferred her professional gaze to Noah. "Can you give us about fifteen minutes to do the girl stuff?"

"Sure." A wry grin canted the corner of his mouth and he stood. "I need to use the men's room myself."

He winked at Natalie and turned for the door. She watched him walk out, eyes drawn to his wide shoulders, his strong, lean body and his confident swagger. No matter how she racked her brain trying to recall something as important as an engagement, her mind remained frustratingly blank.

Regardless of her unreliable memory, one thrilling, exciting thought took precedence: this gorgeous, breathtakingly sexy man was all hers.

Chapter Three

After taking care of personal business, Noah washed his hands, then splashed cool water on his face, trying like hell to push away the guilt eating at his conscience. He dried the dampness from his skin with a paper towel and shoved his fingers through his hair in a paltry attempt to tame his unruly morning hair.

Natalie believed he was her nance. When the nurse had made that announcement, he'd witnessed Natalie's surprised expression and had held his breath, waiting for her to ask him if it was true. Much to his relief she didn't question the woman's casually tossed words, which saved him from outright lying to Natalie's face. For now.

Bracing his hands on the edge of the porcelain sink, he stared at his reflection in the rest room mirror, noting the lines of exhaustion at the corners of his eyes. Undoubtedly, he was lying by omission, because he planned to use the fiance pretense to his advantage, to remain as close to her as possible so he could protect her until he nailed the source of her fears the night before. And he knew there would be more fabrications as they became necessary and until she fully regained her memory-all for her own good. For him, it was one hundred percent a safety issue.