She wished she understood him. But not as much as she wished she understood herself.
Ally didn’t like this man because he was abrasive and unfriendly. Because he knew things about her she didn’t and seemed determined to look down on her.
Yet something inside her sparked into life when he was near. She felt a surge of energy and curiosity then. Strangely, despite everything, she felt safe.
Maybe she had some faint memory of him carrying her from the beach. The doctor had mentioned that and, having seen the steep drop to the beach, it made her appreciate Angelo Ricci’s physical power and determination.
‘What are you thinking about?’
Ally realised she was staring into that chiselled face as if she’d never seen a man before.
Suddenly she laughed. As far as her brain was concerned, shehadn’t. Angelo Ricci and the nice doctor were the only men she could remember seeing.
Was that why he drew her gaze like a magnet?
Had she imprinted on him, like an orphaned duckling attaching itself to the first living being it encountered? The idea was ridiculous.
Yet awareness skittered through her, tightening her skin and beading her nipples. Ally snatched in a stifled gasp.
This couldn’t be...attraction, could it? That was the last thing she needed.
Her laughter caught in something like a sob and she wrenched her head round towards the stormy sea.
What would be worse, discovering she really was attracted to this sour man? Or that her reaction was nothing special and she was easily attracted to any man?
Ally blinked as the backs of her eyes prickled.
She felt totally lost. Like a tiny rowing boat adrift on those monstrous waves outside. There was nothing to cling to. Nothing certain except this room, this man, and the fact that she wasn’t welcome.
‘Alexa—’
‘Ally!’ She sniffed. ‘Please. I prefer it.’ Though it still didn’t feel like her real name.
Would she ever know what that was?
Despite the doctor’s assurances she worried she might never recover her memory.
‘Ally.’ From her peripheral vision she saw Angelo Ricci hunker down beside her. ‘What’s wrong?’
A laugh escaped her tight throat. It was jagged and bitter and revealed too much but, beneath the stoicism she’d aimed for, her emotions ran too close to the surface.
‘What’s wrong? Apart from the fact I have no memory, I don’t know who I am or how I got here. I don’t knowanything.’
Hearing her rising panic she snapped her mouth shut and looked away, transfixed by a single ray of light that beamed down through the roiling clouds. It illuminated a tiny disc of dark water, turning it to pewter. Yet as she watched the tiny gap closed, the clouds bunching together, and everything turned dark again.
Would the clouds of confusion in her brain ever pull back enough for her to remember the past? Ally looked down to find her hands clenched in the long tails of the fine cotton shirt covering her thighs.
Hisshirt? Probably. The idea spilled heat into her cheeks and across her breasts. Suddenly she was hyper-conscious that she wore nothing beneath the oversized shirt she’d been using as a nightie. She smoothed it down her thighs then hitched the open collar high at her throat.
‘The doctor is convinced you’ll get your memory back. You just have to give it time.’
Angelo grabbed the other armchair near the window, turning it to face her rather than the balcony. An instant later he was blocking her view, sitting right in her line of sight.
‘What if he’s wrong? What if it never returns?’
He spread his hands in a gesture that spoke of patience and acceptance. Qualities that felt elusive right now.
‘We cross that bridge when we come to it.’