Chapter One
Detective Catlin Hill stared at the man in the bed. The nurse had told him the patient regained consciousness for several minutes just over an hour earlier. He’d been getting coffee, then his captain had called, and damn it, he’d missed it. Now Catlin wanted nothing more than to see those eyes open. He imagined the lean, muscular African American’s eyes would be brown. He knew it sounded stereotypical, but weren’t most black men’s eyes brown? Catlin couldn’t remember seeing any other color on a dark-skinned man.
He cringed. Yeah, that sounded racist. Catlin sighed and ran a hand through his own short brown locks. He knew he wasn’t racist. His best friend, Detective Brock Ridgeon, was black. Brock didn’t seem as tall but was definitely broader than this guy, and he was easily darker.
Easing into the chair at the head of the bed, Catlin rubbed his eyes. It had been too long since he’d had a decent night’s sleep. Three days? Four? Ever since he’d been called in on this John Doe’s case, a mugging, from the way the witness spoke. Catlin wasn’t so sure. His gut told him differently, and it didn’t matter how many times his partner on the force laughed at him, he knew better than to ignore his gut.
A soft groan from the bed interrupted Catlin’s thoughts. He leaned forward. What was it about this man that was so different? Okay, besides the obvious, that Catlin would be more than happy to fuck or be fucked by this sexy man. Did it make him a pervert to be obsessing over an injured man? Shit, he hoped not.
The fluttering of the patient ’s long, black lashes caught Catlin’s attention and he spoke softly,“Hey, you with us, friend?”
“Yeah.” The guy ’s raspy, whispered answer sent shivers all the way down Catlin’s spine, settling in his balls. His cock twitched in his jeans with the start of an extremely ill-timed erection. He shifted in the chair to hide his growing bulge, just in case the guy glanced at his groin. Wishful thinking, Catlin was sure.
“ Do you know where you are?” he asked gently. “Hospital,” the guy said, cracking his eyes open. Fuck! I was wrong. This guy’s eyes weren’t brown.
They were blue, as-clear-as-the-sky blue. He ’d never seen anything like it. Catlin nodded, buying himself time to engage his brain. Mentally smacking himself in the back of the head, he couldn’t remember the last time a guy affected him this way. “My name is Detective Catlin Hill. Do you remember what happened to land you in the hospital?”
The patient ’s eyes slid shut for several seconds before reopening.“No.”
Okay, Catlin wanted to figure out a way to get beyond the one word answers.“Can you tell me your name?”
That question received another slow blink, followed by a sigh.“No.”
At least that coincided with what the nurse had said. “You were found near a motorcycle. The registration paperwork said Gallo Ricci. Does that ring a bell?”
“It’s pronounced Guy-o Reechee,” he whispered, and Catlin’s brows lifted at the automatic correction. A slight smile curved the corners of the man’s square jaw. “I guess that’s me then, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Catlin replied with a relieved grin. At least he could confirm the handsome man was no longer a John Doe.“Do you remember anything else? Is there someone I should contact about you? Parents? Spouse? Siblings? Children?” Even as he rattled off options, Catlin prayed a couple of those weren’t viable for the man.”
“There’s…someone.” Then Gallo frowned.“I can’t remember.”
“Just relax, Mr. Ricci. It’s not uncommon for memory loss in head trauma cases,” said a middle-aged, dark-haired doctor as he strode briskly into the room followed by a nurse. Catlin didn’t like the way the doctor stared at Gallo with clinical interest. “It’s nice to see you awake and talking. We were getting worried about you, especially in light of how quickly your physical injuries healed.”
“No,” Gallo gasped.
Something in the man’s whispered word had Catlin whipping his head around to refocus on Gallo. The fear in his tone brought every protective instinct in Catlin roaring to life. He saw Gallo’s pale face and watched him yank the needle from his arm and scramble up toward the headboard of the narrow bed.
“Whoa. Hey, easy now. You’re just fine,” he soothed, stepping closer and reaching out to the obviously traumatized man.
To his surprise, the cute African American threw himself at Catlin, wrapped both arms around his waist, and held on tight. Catlin reflexively curled his arms around Gallo, sat down on the mattress, and tucked him close. The guy almost crawled onto his lap. Catlin looked up at the shocked medical staff.“Give us a few minutes, doctor,” he said, using an authoritative tone that left no room for confusion about wanting to be left alone.