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"Rebecca, can you hear me?"
She turned her head, slowly, toward the voice. Wow! She blinked a few times, but the image before her didn't change. Dark green eyes, the color of pine needles, watched her with concern, beneath a crown of thick black hair that begged to have her fingers running through it.
And he held her hand. His touch radiated warmth, like an electric blanket on a winter morning. But why was he holding her hand? Did she know him? Were they friends? Lovers? She glanced at his hand. A wedding ring. She looked at her own hand. No. He was married, but not to her. What a shame.
"How are you feeling?" His green eyes shone intently in his pale face. She'd frightened him, and wished she knew why.
"I'm okay. What happened?"
He smiled, like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Her stomach flip-flopped, as if the flock of butterflies inhabiting it had all suddenly stopped and changed direction. His smile hinted at wonders she desperately longed to know.
Maybe she was having an affair with him. Was she the sort of person who had affairs with married men?
She frowned. She knew what affairs were. Shouldn't she know if she was having one?
"You got a little bit of a shock," he told her, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You may be confused for a while. Can you stand up? Does anything feel broken or sprained?"
She struggled to her feet, then swayed as the world dipped and pitched around her. His arm wrapped around her, strong and secure. She leaned against him, absorbing his strength and warmth.
"Are you ready to move?" His breath stirred her hair. She felt his words reverberating in his chest, through their connection and into her very bones. They even seemed to echo inside her head.
"I don't ever want to move."
He chuckled, the deep sound reminding her of rich, dark chocolate. She wanted to turn around and press close against him, let his warmth drive into her and burn her uncertainties away. She couldn't feel this connected to someone unless they'd been intimately related in the past, could she? Oh, why didn't she know?
"We're going to be standing in the hall all night, then. I can't carry both you and your luggage."
The heavy fire door was crushing an ugly rose-tapestry suitcase against the door frame. She remembered buying the case for 60% off at a remainders sale, but not why it was here. "Are we in a hotel?"
But why were the lights such a dim yellow? Power failure? She shivered. Losing the lights would be disastrous, although she couldn't remember why.
"Shh. It's all right." The man's arm tightened around her shoulder, warming her, and he rubbed her upper arm in a reassuring caress. She tilted her head and smiled at him. He'd protect her. Whoever he was.
They started walking down the hall, one small step at a time. What was his name? She could feel it floating near the edge of her memory, but it skittered away whenever she reached for it. D-something. David? No. Derek? No. Devon? Close. Very close. It was...Desmond! His name was Desmond! Desmond Lacroix. He was the director of....
She stopped. He'd kidnapped her. How could she have forgotten? She'd been trying to escape, and must have short circuited herself instead of the scanner.
He halted beside her, concern darkening his features. Then his face became an emotionless mask and he lifted his arm from her shoulder. "Your memory's returned."
"Yes." She tried to put all of her hate and loathing in the word. It must have worked, because he took a step back.
"Rebecca, I'm sorry. But you said you were claustrophobic. That's why I gave you one of the biggest suites. I didn't realize you would get so upset merely at being underground."
Memories overwhelmed her. She was trapped underground, unable to escape. What happened to the light? She needed light.
She struggled to breathe. The liquid darkness swept over her, drowning her. She was going to die, alone in the dark. Far off in the distance, she heard a voice, but couldn't make out the words.
Warm hands framed her face, and she concentrated on them instead of the darkness. Strong fingers spread across her cheek bones. Firm palms cradled her chin.
"Rebecca. Listen to me. I'm taking you above ground."
Above ground. Outside. She took a deep breath. The darkness clouding her vision receded, and she focused on Desmond's handsome face inches away from her own.
"Where?" she croaked.
"There's an empty bedroom on the top floor of one of the buildings. It's a perfect solution."
A perfect solution, all right. She could climb down from a second story window, no problem. It was too good to be true.
