by Zoe Chant
He pushed in gently, relishing her wet, warm receptivity. He didn't want to make it too much for her, and so he held himself down to short, slow strokes even as his body screamed for release. He was ready to spill his seed into her.
Daisy's hips jerked. He could feel yet another crescendo of pleasure rising in her, and matched his movements to her rapid, responsive thrusts. Her fingers scrabbled at his sweat-slick back, fingernails creasing his skin as if in an unconscious attempt to initiate a mate bond of her own.
Every one of his senses was heightened. Each touch was exquisite and agonizing as he struggled to contain himself, to hold himself at the moment right before his release, until he could feel her speeding thrusts beginning to match his own.
"Harder," she gasped, back arching.
And he gave it to her, letting go of his self-control, pounding into her over and over. Every piston-stroke drew a gasp or a soft cry from her. He couldn't take those little noises of pleasure; it was pushing him over the edge—
And then she came again, tightening around her, and he let go and filled her with a tremendous rush of release. Daisy cried out and so did he, barely aware until his own deep cry rang in his ears.
They relaxed together, Gannon drooping over her, their rapid breathing and pounding heartbeats slowing as one.
Finally Daisy murmured, "That was amazing."
He felt an inward smile curl inside him, the knowledge that he'd made his mate happy wrapping contentedly around his heart. The cabin door was still standing open, letting a fragrant breeze inside, but he was too comfortable to want to get up. Daisy already seemed to be falling asleep against his chest.
"I feel so good right now," she whispered. "So good."
His heart nearly burst with happiness. There was nothing more perfect than this, he thought. Even his bear had settled, its restlessness sated by the presence of their mate.
Daisy's breathing evened out. Cuddled up with her mate, satisfied from three orgasms in a row, she had fallen asleep. Gannon closed his eyes, arms around her to keep anything else away, and let himself relax too.
Chapter Five
Daisy woke up with a dazed sense of confusion. Gannon was a heavy, sleeping weight against her. Then she heard a car door slam, and voices.
"Gannon!" she whispered, shaking him. "There's someone in the yard."
"The girls," Gannon said sleepily.
"Oh!" Daisy sat up, then clapped her hand over her bare breasts. That's right, Cody had said the ranch women were going to come up and bring her some clothes. At the moment, she just wanted to avoid being caught stark naked.
"You left the door open!" she wailed, dashing over to slam it quickly. She caught a very brief glimpse of vehicles and people in the yard. She just hoped they hadn't gotten a good look at her. Then she turned around and realized her clothing, what little she had, was nowhere in sight.
Right. Because they'd dropped their clothes out in the yard.
Through the door, she heard the sound of female giggling.
Gannon was sitting up in bed, naked and, from the look of things, utterly unconcerned about it. Daisy dashed to the chest of drawers in the corner and pulled out another of his shirts. "You need something to wear!" she told him in a loud whisper.
He shrugged his wide shoulders. "They've seen me naked before."
"What?"
A knock came at the door. "Gannon, are you decent in there?" a woman's voice called through the door. "Because we're coming in."
"No!" Daisy called in a panicked squeak. "We're coming out!"
"Are you having sex in there?" a different woman's voice asked.
Someone giggled and exclaimed, "Charmian!"
"What? It's professional interest."
"You mean professional nosiness," the first woman said. "You're the worst gossip in Pinerock County, Charmian, don't deny it."
"I'll have you know I'm very good at keeping secrets. It's hard to be a midwife without being able to."
"See," a third woman said, "she just admitted she knows all our secrets."
"Saffron, I swear—"
Daisy stood in the middle of the floor, staring at the door in baffled worry. She couldn't go out there! She'd never felt so intimidated. Her ability to stay at the ranch might depend on the goodwill of these women ... and she was about to meet them completely naked, wearing nothing but the borrowed shirt she was hastily buttoning over her bare breasts.
Maybe in the life she couldn't remember, she'd been a social butterfly, always perfectly styled, lighting up rooms when she walked into them. If that's so, then it's not true anymore, she thought, looking down at her bare, scratched knees sticking out from under the tails of Gannon's shirt.
Gannon strolled past her with his lazy grace, stark naked. As Daisy clapped her hand over her mouth in total shock, he opened the door, bringing an abrupt halt to a developing argument on the porch.
"Oh, well, hello," said the woman standing in the doorway, grinning. She was a redhead, visibly pregnant.
A dark-haired woman carrying an infant car seat, in which a baby was sleeping, nudged her in the arm. "Get your eyes, and your tongue, back in your head, Tara. You're a married woman."
The third woman was small and dark-skinned with a short haircut. She thrust a bundle of clothing into Gannon's hands. "What is it with the entire bunch of you wandering around naked all the time? Put some pants on like a decent host, before that poor girl with you blushes herself to death."
Daisy recognized her voice as the one who the others had called Charmian. That meant the dark-haired woman with the baby must be Saffron.
Charmian marched into the cabin, and Gannon fell back with an air of friendly tolerance. It seemed that everyone was used to Charmian telling them what to do. Daisy tried to squash her urge to run and hide, but Charmian's smile was friendly, and her eyes were warm; forceful as she was, there was nothing about her that seemed malicious or mean.
"You must be Daisy," she said, taking Daisy's hands in her own. Daisy nodded shyly. "It's wonderful to meet you. I'm Charmian, and as I'm sure they've told you, I'm engaged to the ranch owner—so, after our wedding, I'll own half of this place myself. I'm a midwife, and I've trained as a nurse. I'd like to take a quick look at you and make sure there's nothing wrong other than amnesia, if that's okay."
Daisy could only nod again, feeling too shy to speak.
"Wait, Charmian, let's show her what we brought first," Tara said, holding up a bag.
While Gannon pulled on his pants (but nothing else) and then lounged in the open doorway with his arms folded, watching with interest, the women spread out the things they'd brought on the bed. There was a lot more than just a single change of clothes. Tears sprang to Daisy's eyes when she realized they'd not only brought her several different sizes and styles of clothes (skirts, dresses, jeans, underwear) but also a bag packed with all the things that a woman needed to take care of herself, from a hairbrush and cosmetic supplies to sanitary napkins.
"The guys mean well, but they just don't think of these things," Tara said. "We weren't sure exactly what styles and brands you preferred, but we figured anything was better than nothing, and we can pick up anything special that you want in town. Cody said you didn't have anything with you."
"Is it true that you don't remember who you are?" Saffron asked.
"No, I don't remember anything. I ... this is ... I don't know what to say." Daisy covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, fighting not to burst into tears, which she thought would probably be taken wrong. "I don't even know," she said around her hand, slightly muffled. "I mean, I don't remember anything, so I don't know what brands I like. This is ... it's so much more than I had before. I'm speechless."
She was doubly shocked when Tara hugged her, the other woman's pregnant belly pressing against her. "Believe it or not," Tara said gently, "we understand what you're going through a lot better than you think. None of us have had amnesia, but Saffron and I have both had the experience of running away with
nothing but the clothes on our backs, and having to start over. We brought you all the things we wish we'd had, when it happened to us."
Daisy dashed at her eyes when Tara let her go. Saffron handed her a tissue. "You had to run away?" she asked, sniffling a little. "What happened? Or is it something you don't want to talk about?"
"Well, in my case," Tara said, "I was framed for a crime I didn't commit, by someone who wanted to steal my inheritance."
"Inheritance ... you're an heiress?" Daisy was shocked. Tara looked nothing like it. She was wearing a well-scuffed pair of jeans and a T-shirt, with her red hair pulled back in a no-nonsense braid.
"Sort of. My family runs a successful nonprofit foundation. Actually, I'm still doing a lot of the work of running it from the ranch. But I spent several months on the run, living out of a suitcase."
"And I was forced to marry a man I hated, so I ran away with nothing at all. In my wedding dress, no less." Saffron smiled. "So you see, you're not the only one who had some rough luck. Things turned out just fine for all of us, and it will for you too, you'll see."
"She's right," Charmian said, squeezing Daisy's hand. She turned and opened a small bag of supplies she'd brought in with her. "Now, with your permission, I'm going to take your vitals and have a quick look at you, okay? We can ask the others to leave, if you'd like some privacy."
Daisy shook her head. "They can stay. Depending on, uh ... how much of me are you going to want to examine?"
Charmian smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not going to have you take your clothes off."
"Though you might want to, if you see anything you want to put on," Tara chimed in. She held up a skirt. "This looks about your size!"
It had a pattern of sunflowers all over it. Daisy took it with an exclamation of delight. So apparently I'm a person who likes flowers, she thought. Bright, colorful flowers. She couldn't wait to try it on.
First, though, she let Charmian take her pulse and temperature, and flash a light in her eyes and ears. When she glanced up in the middle of this, she found Gannon was no longer in the doorway, though it still stood open, allowing the sweet-scented breeze into the cabin.
"What's wrong?" Charmian asked, and Daisy realized she'd tensed up.
"Sorry," she said, making a deliberate effort to relax. "I—I just noticed Gannon was gone. I hope everything's okay out there."
"It's fine," Saffron said from the window. She'd taken the baby out of his car seat and was walking around the room with him. "Gannon's just outside, doing chores in the yard." She turned back with a smile. "That's a very good sign, actually. It means he trusts us with you."
"Well, there's no reason why he wouldn't," Daisy pointed out. She couldn't imagine any of these women hurting her.
"Love isn't always rational," Charmian murmured. She lifted Daisy's thick golden curls off her neck and brushed the skin with her fingertips.
Daisy jerked, remembering how Gannon's teeth had brushed that very spot during their lovemaking, and how it had made her feel. She discovered that she didn't like other people touching her there. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Sorry," Charmian said. "I was checking for marks and scars. They could be useful for identifying you."
"Wait." Daisy leaned forward. "You have a scar on your neck." She'd just glimpsed it, a pale crescent against Charmian's dark skin.
"Lots of people have scars," Charmian said, reaching up quickly to touch it.
"Yes ... but ..." And now she was looking at the other two women. Saffron's dark hair was down, covering up her neck, but with Tara's red hair pulled back, the scar on her neck was plain to see. "Do you all have a scar there?" she asked in disbelief.
"We do," Tara said. Sitting beside Daisy on the bed, she put a hand on the other woman's arm. "But it's not our secret to talk about. You'll have to ask Gannon about it."
"Gannon?" Why would Gannon know or care about scars on the necks of other men's wives? But Daisy found that she'd raised her hand to touch the smooth, unblemished skin of her neck. She shivered a little, thinking of how much she'd wanted Gannon to go ahead and bite down. Her desire to have him bite her had caught her off guard. Of course, she wouldn't have remembered if she was into that sort of thing, but she didn't seem to have any other scars, which made her think she probably wasn't. It had seemed very alien to her previous experience of sex.
And yet, she could still remember the full-body yearning ...
She shook herself out of the memory, back to the present time, because just thinking about it was making her wet again. It was only one of a million mysteries surrounding her right now. And this one, at least, she could just ask Gannon about.
"Okay if I go on?" Charmian asked.
"Yes, of course. Actually ..." Daisy hesitated, then pushed up the loose sleeve of the shirt to show Charmian her arm. "I wanted to find out what you think of these marks. I don't know what made this, but ..." She trailed off again, holding up her arm to display the pinpricks and slight bruising in the crook of her elbow.
Charmian whistled softly. She took Daisy's arm in gentle hands, tilting it to the light to see better, then reached for the penlight she'd used to check Daisy's eyes, and examined it more closely. "This looks like you had an IV, or were repeatedly injected in the same site," she said.
A chill went through her. She hadn't really wanted to have it confirmed. "That's what I thought too, but I wasn't sure." Daisy closed her hands into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. "Is—is there any way to tell what I was drugged with?"
"It wasn't necessarily a drug. You could have needed an IV for hydration, for example," Charmian pointed out. "Unfortunately, I don't have equipment with me for taking blood samples. You can go into town to get bloodwork done, but it's likely that if there was anything in your system, it will have processed out by that point, and possibly already has. Do you feel unwell in any way?"
Daisy shook her head. Actually, she felt very good, especially after the mindblowing sex. "I do remember having a headache last night, but it went away after I slept."
Charmian frowned. "Daisy, you really should talk to the police. Are you sure you don't remember anything at all before last night?"
"Nothing except occasional flashes. It feels almost like my life started last night." She looked up anxiously at Charmian. "Could drugs have done that?"
"It's entirely possible. Many sedatives can cause retrograde amnesia. I don't recall hearing of someone who lost all their memories, but maybe if whoever drugged you wasn't very good at their job, there's no telling what they could have given you, or what kind of effects it could have." Seeing that she was alarming Daisy, she amended hastily, "But you don't seem unwell at all. As far as I can tell, you're in excellent health. I've also read about cases of people who simply lose their memories for no reason anyone knows."
"Do they ever get them back?" Daisy asked anxiously.
"Some people do," Charmian said. "Memory is so mysterious. Even people who study the human brain for a living don't understand how it works."
"Daisy, listen." Saffron laid the sleeping baby carefully on the bed, and then took both Daisy's hands. Daisy hadn't realized how cold her hands were; Saffron's skin felt almost hot in comparison. "We want you to get your memory back, but no matter what happens, I promise you'll be safe here. We understand what it's like to be lost and scared, looking for a place to call home. No matter what your past was like before, we promise you can stay here as long at the ranch for as you like."
"She's right, hon." Tara leaned over to put an arm around her shoulders, and gave her a big-sisterly hug. "Of course we want to find out who you really are. I'm married to a sheriff, and I have a satellite internet link back at the ranch for my home business, so I can start looking into it right away. But whoever you are, and whoever you were, you have a place here with us."
"I agree," Charmian said, smiling. "I wasn't quite like Tara and Saffron. I already had a life when I met Alec. I wasn't running away, at least not outside. But as soon as I set
foot on the ranch, it felt like I had come home. I imagine you must feel the same way."
"I do," Daisy admitted. "I don't even know why."
The women all shared a glance. "Talk to Gannon," Saffron said. "That's all I can tell you. Ask him about it."
"Meanwhile," Tara said, "I'm going to get started looking up information on you. Do you remember your last name?"
Daisy shook her head. "Just Daisy. That's all I know."
"Well, I can try a basic internet search for any missing persons or news stories about someone by that name. And Axl—that's my husband, the sheriff—can look you up in the databases he has access to."
"What about the media?" Charmian suggested. "We could take a picture of her and contact the news. I've read about other people with amnesia finding their loved ones that way."
"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Saffron asked.
The other women looked at her. "Why not?" Tara inquired.
"I shouldn't have to tell you," Saffron pointed out. "You were on the run, like me. We don't know how Daisy got here, but it really looks like something must have happened to her. We don't want to wave a red flag to anyone who might be looking for her."
"She's right," Daisy said quietly. "I mean, it's only been less than a day. Maybe my memory will come back on its own. Is it okay if I just stay here for a couple of days, and we don't talk to anyone yet?" Especially reporters. She felt a bone-deep chill at the idea of advertising her presence here. The cabin seemed so safe, but she was also aware that its safety relied on a fragile bulwark of privacy. The more people who found out she was here, the less safe she would be.
Tara gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. "Of course. We won't do anything without your permission. I'll start by looking you up online, okay? I'll just look up your name on Google, nothing more than that."
Daisy nodded. She plucked at the sunflower skirt, and smiled hesitantly. "If we're done, can I get changed? I'd like to wear something other than a borrowed men's shirt for a change."
She was unprepared for how much better she felt once she'd changed into the skirt and a matching yellow blouse, with her hair brushed out until it shone in golden waves. It was as if little pieces of herself were slotting back into place. She no longer felt like flotsam washed up on a foreign shore.