by Renee Burke
Renee Burke
To Know Her
Dedication
To the many wonderful authors who have written books to allow me an escape over the years. To my family for supporting my dream of becoming one of these escape artists.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
Bright lights from the oncoming car blinded her. She watched it speed by, wondering, idly, whether it was better to stop it or let it pass. Hitching a ride had to be dangerous. On the other hand, the temperature was chilling her bare arms.
Brake lights lit the dark blacktop and cast shadows over the roadside and into the woods. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, holding tight in an effort to warm herself, as she watched the car back slowly toward her. A Porsche. Well at least the ride would be luxurious.
The driver’s door popped open, and a man emerged. He towered over the low slung car, dark and dangerous. When he circled the back to come closer, she stepped away, slipping off the blacktop and into the low brush. His hand shot out to catch her around the waist, pulling her closer, uncaring of her trepidation.
“Trouble?” He pulled her forward where the road was flat until her feet were once again steady.
She nodded, unable to find her voice. He studied her for a moment, gazing into her eyes before lifting to her hair. He brushed a finger over the smooth skin of her forehead, and she watched his throat work as he swallowed. The closeness was unnerving.
“I seem to be lost.” Her voice was small, mirroring her emotions.
“You seem to be hurt.” He pulled the finger back from her forehead, and she could see the trace of blood there.
“Oh!” Her eyes widened in surprise and her head tilted. “I’m not sure how that happened. I can’t seem to remember... much.” She pulled herself upright a bit and stepped away, out of his embrace.
His eyes narrowed as he watched her arms lift again, wrapping around in a self-protective hug.
“I don’t suppose you could give me a lift?”
Without a word, he turned to open the passenger door and gestured for her to sit.
She held her breath as he crossed in front of the car, looking like a giant against the darkness as he crossed in front of each headlight. He turned to look at her as he settled in the seat.
“So, what now?”
She gave him a shy glance. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess to a store. Maybe a gas station?” She could call someone from there. Except she was completely blank on who.
The muscles in his jaw tensed. “What exactly are you out to buy on a dark highway at night?”
His words seemed angry, but she wasn’t sure why. The thought upset her.
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip and looked out into the dark just beyond the glare of the headlights. “I don’t remember why I’m here or who to call.”
His angry expression was wiped away, and the tension around his eyes softened. “What do you remember?”
She swallowed again and looked into her lap. She was holding a set of keys. Had those been there the whole time? She shook her head, every thought more fuzzy and daunting than the last. “Nothing. I don’t remember anything.”
He nodded before reaching over to cover her hands with his own big warm one. His gentle squeeze brought her gaze back to his.
“It will be okay. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” He pulled the safety belt across her lap brushing her breast with the back of his hand as it passed. Accidental? She wasn’t sure. She chose to say nothing.
The engine fired, and he shifted into gear before making a U-turn and accelerating into the darkness. Her sigh seemed loud in the quiet car, as she considered her situation. Her head ached, and the blank slate of her mind was a frightening place.
“You don’t remember your name?”
His words jolted her out of her revelry.
She crinkled her brow for a moment, trying to dredge up the answer. Her response, when it came, was almost inaudible. “No.”
His grip tightened momentarily on the steering wheel before relaxing. “We’ll need something to call you then. How about Sara?” He watched her closely.
She shrugged. It was as good as any other name. “Alright.”
“I’m Derek Clayton.”
“Nice to meet you, Derek.”
A large house with a sprawling lawn came into view. He slowed and pulled into the drive. They had been driving only a short time, but she’d become relaxed in the seat. The realization that they weren’t going to a public place made her tense again. “Why are we here?”
“It’s late. We’re not close to a town, and they’ll be little open to offer help for you by the time we get there.” He pulled into the garage and stopped the car.
She looked around, quickly taking inventory of her surroundings. Another space stood empty beside her. “You have a wife?”
“No wife.”
“Someone else lives here?”
“At the moment, only you. We’ll get your cut cleaned up and put some ice on the knot you have growing. Does it hurt?”
She nodded. “A bit.”
He opened his door and was around to escort her from the car before she had time to consider her options. He leaned across her, reaching down to unbuckle her safety belt, brushing against her thigh before taking her hand to pull her from the seat. He seemed entirely comfortable with the contact. She admitted to herself that she didn’t feel afraid. Was this the way victims felt before realizing they’d trusted a serial killer? At ease, relieved for the company?
He unlocked the door and engaged the security alarm on a nearby keypad as they entered. The lights he flipped on illuminated a large room beyond the foyer. Comfortable and spacious. Couches and chairs with fabric throws beckoned, but he held her hand and pulled her toward the kitchen.
Without speaking, he quickly retrieved a first aid kit and cold compress before leading her to a chair. He sat opposite her and opened the kit to find what he needed.
“I wonder how a woman gets to this area, alone, at night, and loses her memory.”
She stopped her investigation of the surrounding room. “I have no idea.”
“That’s what’s happened then? No memory?”
“I guess. I know some things. This…” She gestured between them and then toward the night beyond a large bay window. “…is unsafe.”
He doused a piece of gauze with antiseptic from a brown bottle. The smell made her nose wrinkle. “Unsafe?” His eyebrow lifted with his curious tone.
“Of course. Because I don’t know you. You could be a woman’s worst nightmare.”
He winced at the words. “I suppose you’re right. I promise you. I won’t cause you harm.” He lifted the gauze to touch her injury.
“Ouch!” She lurched back, her hand jerking up to clutch at his arm, creating distance.
“Sorry, Sara. The cut is open and needs treatment before we bandage it.”
Sara. Okay. She waited just a moment before releasing his arm. He dabbed her again with the cotton, causing the wound to burn. She gritted her teeth against the irritation.
She watched as his lips moved closer before parting so he could blow gently across the ache. Maybe it wasn’t the most sanitary move, but it brought him close enough to give her a good view of his dark skin, stubble covering his jaw, and the strong neck that dipped into a broad set of shoulders covered by an expensive dress shirt. She could smell his skin, masculine and sexy.
“Oh.” T
he sound was just a breath but he heard. His lips quirked. He leaned back to search her expression.
“Better?”
Her only response was a nod.
He finished treating the cut with ointment and a small bandage that kept her hair from touching it. Her hair. She stroked the swash over her shoulder. Dark blonde, long, and thick.
“How about something to drink before settling in?” He was already moving around the kitchen before she answered. He returned with a glass of lemonade.
She sipped a few drinks while watching him put the first aid supplies away. He returned with an outstretched hand. Two small pills, one white and one yellow, lay in his palm.
“Take these.”
“I couldn’t.” She didn’t make a move to obey.
“You can. They’ll keep you well.”
She lowered her eyes back to the pills. “What are they?”
“An antibiotic I had on hand will help the cut, and a pain pill for your headache.”
Her eyes flew back to his. “How do you know I have a headache?”
He smiled gently. “Don’t you?”
She nodded.
“There’s a tension.” He gestured with two outstretched fingers. “Here, around your eyes.”
She took the pills from his hand but didn’t immediately swallow them. “Will I be staying here?”
“Let me show you some options.”
When she rose, he picked up her glass and led her further through the living area. A split stairway stood before them. When she stopped, unsure which one to take, his hand rested on the small of her back before urging her up the stairs.
“Is your room up here?”
“Yes, the last door on the left, but there are several others also.” He opened the first door and showed her inside. The bedroom was small and sparse. She didn’t make a move to enter. It was a cold, stark room, and she disliked it immediately.
He led her toward another room, larger this time, with a private bath barely visible through a sliver in the door. She immediately relaxed as she looked around the space.
“This one it is.”
“What?”
He smiled wryly. “You just seem more comfortable here, Sara.” He handed her the glass and nodded toward her closed palm. “You should take those now before your headache gets much worse.”
He watched her, waiting until she finally lifted her hand and put the pills in her mouth. She swallowed the lemonade to wash them down before handing him the glass.
“Good enough. You want something to sleep in?”
She nodded. “Please.”
His eyes held hers for a moment before turning to leave the room. He returned quickly with a large t-shirt.
“Thank you.”
He reached to touch her face gently, pushing the curls back from her forehead. “This might help with the bump you’ve got.” He held the compress she’d seen earlier, wrapped in a thin cloth. He gave it to her before stepping away.
“It’s late. Get comfortable before that pain pill kicks in. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Sara watched him leave the room, waiting a moment before trailing after him to close the door and lock it. She lifted the t-shirt to take a closer look and found a military slogan stamped across the chest. The fabric was soft and it smelled of warm, sexy man. Derek. Memory or no memory, she could admit that to herself. She was with a stranger, a gorgeous stranger, who was taking tender care of her. There were lots of questions. Everything was a question from where she stood. Tomorrow would be soon enough to run down answers.
She shed her clothes, noticing several blood droplets on her shirt, before slipping on the borrowed t-shirt and sliding between the cool cotton sheets. She gingerly laid the compress on her forehead for a few minutes before dropping it to the floor and falling into a deep sleep.
Chapter Two
When she opened her eyes, sunlight shone through the two windows in the room. She’d made it through the night. Safe.
She sat up and her head gave a throbbing pulse. Still there. She rose from the bed and stretched before entering the bathroom. Her first thought was that the accommodations were first rate. Second, was that she was an idiot. Another door stood open across the tile. It led to a second bedroom. HIS bedroom, if she had to guess. The bed was obscenely big. Just like him. The décor was masculine and rich. Also just like him, if she had to guess.
She turned to face herself in the mirror. She shook her head and frowned at the unfamiliar reflection. She hadn’t thought to check for other entrances last night. She’d gone to sleep sure she was cocooned in the safety of her room. Alone. How wrong she’d been. But she’d made it through without incident. He hadn’t come inside. Or had he?
She returned to the bedroom to quickly scan for changes. The door to the hallway was still closed and locked. Her clothes were no longer on the chair where she’d left them. And there – on the dresser – sat a stack of clothes and toiletries that hadn’t been there last night. So he had come in. But he hadn’t hurt her. He was still taking care of her. Still, it was a bit of an invasion.
She rifled through the new items and found a ponytail holder. After a quick shower, she pulled her hair into a messy knot before looking at the clothes. A pair of soft gray pants that were just a little loose and a pink top that fit perfectly, if a display of cleavage was the goal. It was better than recycling yesterday’s bloody garment.
In the kitchen, Sara found Derek sitting at the table as a woman bustled around the stove.
“Here she is. I was just about to wake you.”
She stood staring, struck dumb, at the woman behind the counter. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest, feeling exposed without the added layer of a bra.
“Did you sleep well?” He stood beside her now, his hand on her back, urging her to an empty chair.
“Y- yes. I slept fine.” She pulled her eyes away from the cook to glare at him. “You came into my room?”
He either didn’t notice her censure or didn’t care. He nodded in response. “You found the clothes?”
She slid her hand down the soft fabric of her sleeve. “Thank you.” She watched his eyes play over the curves and hollows of her breasts, the way the top molded to her, perfectly accenting her figure. “I didn’t know there was another door.”
He laughed softly. “I figured but saw no reason to tell you. You seemed to have enough on your mind without that fact.”
The woman moved from the stove to the table to deposit a plate in front of her.
“Hello.” Sara’s greeting went unanswered.
“This is Gretchen, Sara.”
For the first time since she’d entered the room, Gretchen looked Sara full in the face and gave a quick nod before turning away again. Employee or girlfriend?
“Pleased to meet you.” Gretchen gave no indication that she heard. Sara turned back to Derek. His eyes were narrowed at Gretchen who was bringing him more coffee.
She didn’t like her here it seemed. Maybe she had a thing for her employer. No need to get worked up, Sara thought, I’ll be gone today.
“So, I’ve been thinking about my next move. I think you should take me to a police station. Someone’s bound to have filed a missing person’s report. They’ll be able to tell me who I am.” She sipped the glass of juice. “Get me back to wherever it is I belong.”
Gretchen dropped a platter onto the counter with a loud clatter, and Sara jumped.
“I’m already on it.” Derek focused on his plate, slicing and buttering as he spoke. “I’ve contacted the department in town, and they have nothing yet on a missing woman.
“Oh. No one is looking for me?” Her brow pleated, the thought disheartening. “Maybe no one has noticed I’m gone yet.”
“I have a friend there, Detective Donovan, who will contact us if something turns up. He’s going to do some digging to see what he can find.”
“Oh- okay. So what should I do in the meantime. I can’t exactly stay here.”
Gretchen’s loud hmpf was easily heard across the room and drew their attention.
“I don’t see that it would be a problem. Stay here. You can see you’re not in any harm, and it will give some time to settle you, so we can find out exactly what happened to strand you on that highway.”
It sounded like logical. It wasn’t as if she had lots of other choices. The thought brought a niggle of fear at the unknown. “Maybe just for a day or so?”
“Good.” Derek finished his breakfast, cleaning his plate, as Sara picked over hers, her stomach rolling slightly as the foods blended together in the middle. The bump on her head must have been some knock. Her headache was slightly better but reminded her every moment of her situation.
When the table was cleared and Gretchen had disappeared, Derek pulled Sara to her feet and led her into the living room. He settled her onto the sofa. “Relax here. I’ll get another pain pill and set up a video. You can watch or sleep and try to get rid of that headache. I have a few things to take care of in my office.”
She nodded. “I really just woke up, so I’ll channel surf if it’s all the same to you.”
He handed her the remote and left. She quickly settled into a decorating channel.
He returned several hours later to find her snuggled into the couch in a deep sleep. He knelt to wake her. His hands trailed up her arms, resting on her shoulders and massaging her awake. She opened her eyes to find him close, his hands working magic on her muscles.
She smiled and took in the dark lashes that framed the blazing blue eyes watching her. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”
“How’s the headache?”
She took inventory of her pain. “Getting better.”
“Good.”
Derek slid his hand to her neck, still rubbing gently, and pushed her hair back to look at her face. He treated her with such familiarity that Sara knew she should be wary, but she felt comforted instead. He was beautiful to look at, and the way he watched her told her how powerful it would be if he ever looked at her with any degree of intensity. She felt her breathing speed up under the warmth of his gaze.