Night of the Tiger(28)

The problem was, he didn’t seem like a stranger. With each passing moment, he felt like someone she knew…well. Of course, she’d had sex with the man. Couldn’t get much closer than that.

But it was more than a physical connection. There was some part of her, deep in her soul, that recognized him and yearned to help him. Shaking her head, she struggled to find her voice again. “No. No, I don’t remember.” That wasn’t exactly true. “I don’t remember much.” But the longer she was awake, the more she was remembering. Aimee rubbed her fingertips over her temples, trying to beat back the headache that was starting to brew.

“What do you remember?”

She ignored his demand. She had a few questions of her own. “First things first. Who the heck are you?”

He sat down on the mattress beside her, his hip brushing her thigh. The sheet separated them, but it might as well have not been there for all the protection it offered her. She could feel the heat from his body soaking into her chilled flesh.

“My name is Roric.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from her.

The name stirred a memory from deep in her subconscious. She frowned as more details came back to her. That was the word the carnival people had shouted at her while she’d taken the wild ride on the carousel. But had that really happened? Aimee was no longer certain about anything.

“You remember something,” he prompted her. He narrowed his eyes. A muscle rippled in his jaw as he watched and waited. She had a feeling he was very good at waiting.

“I’m not sure of anything.” She could hear the rising hysteria in her voice and struggled to keep calm and composed, which wasn’t easy to do with a naked stranger sitting next to her.

He sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Strand of white and black sifted through his fingers.

It came to her then who he reminded her of. The white tiger from the carnival ride. He was also the same man from a dream she’d had two nights ago. She frowned. Or was it longer? Somewhere along the way she’d lost all sense of time and had no idea what day it was.

How could she dream about a man she’d never met? Had she seen his face somewhere, and her subconscious used that memory to bring him into her dream? Didn’t seem possible. She’d certainly remember seeing a man as striking as Roric.

“I went to a carnival last night and saw some strange things there. At least I think I did. At this point, I’m not sure what’s a dream and what’s reality.” A horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe she was the victim of some sort of scam. Had she been drugged somehow while she’d been touring the sideshows? “Did you drug me?” she blurted out.

His face darkened, his features tightening until he looked as if they’d been carved from stone. “No.”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t try to convince her what he said was true. He’d just said no and left it at that. She found herself believing him and relaxed slightly. Okay, she believed that Roric hadn’t drugged her. That didn’t mean someone else hadn’t. At this point, the most important thing to figure out was what the heck had happened to her.

The carnival was very real. She and Sandra had left here last night together. She’d seen the rides and the townspeople and the carousel. The question remained, what had happened? How had she gotten from there to here? And why was Roric with her?

As if sensing her unsettled thoughts, Roric turned and stroked his fingers down the side of her face again. The pads of his fingertips were rough, but his touch was gentle. “What is your name?”

Embarrassment flooded her, and she felt her face growing warmer under his continued appraisal. God, she’d slept with a man who didn’t even know her name. Not that she could point her finger just at him. She hadn’t known his name until he’d told her. “Aimee. Aimee Horner.”

“And where are we, Aimee Horner?”

The way he said her name made her womb clench. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide the fact that her nipples were standing at attention. “We’re in my home.”

He shook his head, making his hair sway. Her gaze followed its path as it brushed his shoulders. She curled her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to touch the thick strands. She suddenly had a vivid memory of that hair brushing erotically against her breasts.

“No. What place are we?”

Her mouth dropped open, and all thoughts of his sexy hair were forgotten. “You don’t know where you are?”

His eyes narrowed and his face grew grim, but he didn’t respond.

Aimee realized that he truly had no idea. This was getting weirder by the second. “You’re in Salvation. North Carolina,” she added just in case he didn’t know what state he was currently in. “Are you with the carnival?”