She was perched on one of the counter stools, laughing at the shivering bundle of ecstasy hunkered between her bare legs. “No, you idiot! Don’t give me that silly grin. I’m not feeding you another bite.”
She glanced up, her face still alight, and spotted Dom. The laughter faded instantly. He felt the loss like a hard right jab to the solar plexus.
Jézus, Mária és József! Did she dislike all men, or just him? He couldn’t tell but sure as hell intended to find out.
The woman represented so many mysteries. There was the disdain she’d treated him to in New York. That ridiculous codicil. The memory loss. The yet-to-be-explained reason she was here in his loft, swathed in his soccer shirt. Dom couldn’t remember when a woman had challenged him in so many ways. He was about to tell her so when the cell phone he’d left on the counter buzzed.
“It’s Sarah,” he said after a quick glance at the face that came up on the screen. “My cousin and your boss. Do you want to talk to her?”
“I…uh… All right.”
He accepted the FaceTime call and gave his anxious cousin the promised update. “Natalie’s still here with me. Physically she seems okay but no progress yet on recovering her memory. Here, I’ll put her on.”
He positioned the phone so the screen captured Natalie still seated on the high stool. Both he and Sarah could see the desperate hope and crushing disappointment that chased across the researcher’s features as she stared at the face on the screen.
“Oh, Nat,” Sarah said with a tremulous smile, “I’m so, so sorry to hear you’ve been hurt.”
Her hand crept to her nape. “Thank you.”
“Dev and I will fly to Budapest today and take you home.”
Uncertainty flooded her eyes. “Dev?”
Sarah swallowed. “Devon Hunter. My husband.”
The name didn’t appear to register, which caused Natalie such obvious dismay that Dom intervened. Leaning close, he spoke into the camera.
“Why don’t you and Dev hold off for a while, Sarah? We haven’t spoken to the police yet this morning. They were going to trace Natalie’s movements in Hungary and might have some information for us. Also, they might have found her purse or briefcase. If not, we’ll need to go to the American Embassy and get a replacement passport before she can leave the country. That could take a few days.”
“But…”
Sarah struggled to mask her concern. Dom guessed she felt personally responsible for her assistant being hurt and stranded in a foreign country.
“Are you good with remaining in Hungary a little while yet, Nat?”
“I…” She looked from the screen to Dom to the hound, who now sat with his head plopped on her knee. “Yes.”
“Would you feel better staying at a hotel? I can make a reservation in your name today.”
Once again Dom felt compelled to intercede. Natalie was in no condition to be left on her own. Assuming, of course, her memory loss was real. He had no reason to believe otherwise but the cop in him went too deep to take anyone or anything at face value.
“Let’s leave that for now, too,” he told Sarah. “As I said, we need to talk to the police and start the paperwork for a replacement passport if necessary. While we’re working things at this end, you could make some inquiries back in the States. Talk to the duchess and Zia and Gina. Maybe the editor you’re working with on your book. Find out if anyone’s called inquiring about Natalie or her research. It might help jog her memory if we can discover what brought her to Budapest from Vienna.”
“Of course. I’ll do that today.” She hesitated, clearly distressed for her assistant. “You’ll need money, Natalie. I’ll arrange a draft… No, we’d better make it cash since you don’t have any ID. I’ll have it delivered to Dom’s address this afternoon. Just an advance on your salary,” she added quickly when Natalie looked as though she’d been offered charity.
Dom considered telling his cousin that the money could wait, too. He was more than capable of covering his unexpected guest’s expenses. More to the point, it might be better to keep her dependent on him until they sorted out her situation. On reflection, though, he decided the leash was short enough.
The brief conversation left Natalie silent for several long moments. She scratched the hound’s head, obviously dismayed over not recognizing the woman she worked for and with. Dom moved quickly to head off another possible panic attack.
“Okay, here’s today’s agenda,” he said with brisk cheerfulness. “First, we finish breakfast. Second, we hit the shops to buy you some shoes and whatever else you need. Third, we visit police headquarters to find out what, if anything, they’ve learned. We also get a copy of their incident report and contact the embassy to begin the paperwork for a replacement passport. Finally, and most important, we arrange a follow-up with the doctor you saw yesterday. Or better yet, with a specialist who has some expertise dealing with amnesia cases.”