Luke wouldn’t look at her, and his movements were stiff as he began to remove the patches and equipment that had been monitoring her. Their disconnection triggered a loud beep, and with a sigh Luke got up to unplug the machine. Only then, with distance between them, did his eyes touch hers, so dark in the low light, and Johanna realized that he could smell her desire.
“Do you need anything?” Luke asked, his voice low, seductive.
The implication behind his words had Johanna fisting the comforter in her hands. Taking a deep breath was a mistake because she could smell him everywhere, including on her. As she swallowed, she was reminded of how dry her throat was and that it neededactualliquid. “Could I get a glass of water, please?”
“Of course. Would you like something to eat too?”
Johanna had to put a hand over her heart to stop it from pounding out of her chest. That question might have been simple to anyone else, but a man had never looked at her and asked if she wanted to eat. It was always that she should eat less, that she was ‘so pretty’ with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin, that if she just lost a little weight she could be anything she wanted to be, that she would be taken seriously if she put effort into the way she looked.
Even though Johanna promptly cut off anyone who said that to her, it didn’t mean their words didn’t hurt. The world had eaten her self-esteem and spit out the woman she was now, the one who couldn’t fathom why anyone would look at her the way Luke had, not once, not twice, but three times in the ten minutes they’d been alone together. It could have been the mate bond—a rational explanation—but when she saw his concerned gaze, she knew that wasn’t fully the case. The mate bond only pushed the two people connected by it to consummate the bond. It didn’t create feelings. It didn’t force someone to care.
That realization softened her, and she smiled at Luke. He seemed awestruck by that, which made her laugh. Finally she said, “I’m not hungry yet, but thank you.”
He seemed speechless for a moment, making her giggle again. Then he shuffled toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Johanna was still smiling when he left, until her eyes connected with the door frame and the decoration around it. The floral wallpaper was her style, and the same could be said for the furniture in its green hues. It reminded her of a garden, but while it was beautiful, it wasn’t a room she was familiar with. She also hadn’t heard any other voices or movement so far in the house. Johanna closed her eyes and tried to connect with anyone who may be on the premises, but the only person she found was Luke. This had to be his house, so why was she here?
Again it felt like she was missing something. She tried to remember, but it all seemed to be hidden from her, stuck behind some imaginary boulder that she couldn’t move or pass through. She tried harder, closing her eyes again, her eyebrows furrowing as she focused inward, advancing, pressing on the mental block. When she did, she cried out, flying forward in the bed and into Luke’s sudden arms.
“Johanna? What’s wrong?”
She wailed, sobs tearing from her body and spilling into his. Johanna felt like she had been struck by lightning; her nerve endings were on fire, burning away until they shriveled and died.
Luke pulled her closer, rocking her in his arms while she burrowed her head into the crook of his neck. He stroked her hair as he gently shushed her. “It’s okay, sunflower, you’re safe. It’s okay. I promise it’s all going to be okay.”
Sunflower?
The single world delivered a second shock to Johanna’s system, causing her to freeze. He had been the one who saved her. His voice had led her out of her own personal hell. Every step that she took as she tried to find her way out had been heavy, and she continued to sink lower and lower into the abysmal sea of fear, guilt, anger, misery, and, above all, pain. The pain was unbearable. But then she heard his stories. The voice that spoke to her became her own guiding light, but it was muddled, like sounds underwater. Its cadence and tone were all wrong, and she couldn’t place who was speaking to her, not even if the voice was male or female. She just knew that it meant the world to her. It had soothed her to know she wasn’t alone, and though she couldn’t remember who it belonged to, she needed to get back to it.
I couldn’t remember. I can’t remember.
“Why can’t I remember?”
Luke’s rhythmic stroking stopped, and she realized then that she’d spoken out loud. He tilted his head back, and when she lifted her own, he wiped the tears from her eyes. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Johanna shook her head, but Luke cupped her cheeks. His touch was soft yet constant, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She just had to reach out, to try.
“It hurts. There’s something affecting my memories, and when I try to remove it, it hurts.”
His hand went into her hair again, smoothing it away from her face. “Then leave it. It might be there for a reason.”
“But what reason—”
The grimace on his face silenced her. He knew something, and whatever it was, it was terrible.
“Luke did someone—”
His face grew tense as a haunted look invaded his eyes. Johanna squeezed his shoulders, hoping to ease whatever news he was about to share. He looked over her again before he said in a tight whisper, “You were almost dead when I found you.”
Johanna gasped, her eyes growing wide.
“And you’ve been here, at my house, unconscious for the last two weeks.” He took a deep breath, his face stoic. “During that time, we’ve only interacted through your abilities. You’ve gone from protecting this house and me, for a variety of reasons, to communicating with me on mental and energetic levels. So whatever is happening, you did it to protect yourself.”
She shook her head rapidly. “No, no. I don’t have the ability to create mental blocks. Those are higher level skills in my family—” Johanna yelped as another bolt of pain flew through her body, causing her to squeeze Luke’s shoulders in a death grip.
“Johanna!” He gripped her arms, pulling her closer, holding her tighter.
She took a deep breath. As her grip eased, he instructed her to take another one, going so far as to take one with her. Slowly, ever so slowly, the pain went away. Only then did she look up at him, confused and shocked. “Is there some way to be sure that no one else did this to me?”
