Billionaire's Accident Page 2

  He couldn’t find any sign of injury or bruising; all he found as his hands trailed over her skin in the rain was smooth ivory skin that was toned and intact. His brow furrowed in concern for her, but he was sure she was fine. Unless …

  That left only two other possibilities; one was a head injury and the other an internal injury. Both options seemed bleak. Brent sighed and surveyed her face. Long dark lashes rested against her cheeks. Full poppy red lips and a sharp chin had a flicker of recognition spark in the back of his mind.

  Brent looked at her again, this time narrowing his eyes. By the time he was done he was sure he didn’t know her. He couldn’t place a name to her face or remember ever doing business with her.

  She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or Brent had been. Either way he couldn’t leave her there, and he couldn’t chance calling an ambulance. Brent shrugged off his coat and moved around his car to open the passenger door. Never in his life had Brent imagined regretting the moment he had decided on buying a sports car with only two seats.

  He set the backrest as far back as was possible in a Masserati and headed around back to find his ragdoll still unconscious. Brent checked her breathing and left out another curse. He should have stayed for the last drink, he thought as he bent next to her. Or he should have left when his friends had left was the last thought as Brent slipped his one hand beneath her knees and his other beneath her head and prepared his muscles to scoop her up.

  She barely weighed more than a ragdoll, Brent thought as he stood up. He carried her around to the passenger seat and gently set her down. A dark strand of wet hair fell over her eyes and before Brent could stop himself, he carefully tucked it behind her ear.

  Once he was happy that she was comfortable and warm he moved back around the car to collect her handbag. He considered checking her wallet for her identification and maybe her phone to call someone. But who would he phone?

  Shrugging the thought aside, he moved around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. Once he had gunned the engine, he reversed after checking and rechecking the rearview mirror about ten times to be certain he didn’t run over anyone else tonight.

  He slowly pulled out of the parking lot, still undecided as to what he was going to do about the unconscious ragdoll in his passenger seat. He glanced over at her and couldn’t help but notice her short black skirt had ridden up in the process of him carrying her and was now revealing a taunting piece of ivory flesh.

  Brent grunted and focused on the traffic. Why was it that no one knew how to drive when it rained? The rules were the same; the only difference was you had to be a little more careful.

  He stopped at a red light and as he waited for the light to change he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so completely out of control. In business and in his life, Brent was always entirely at the helm. He was the one calling the shots, making the decisions. He was the one that always knew what to do; why did he not know what to do about this situation?

  The light turned green and Brent slowly pulled away. Usually he loved feeling the power of the Masserati at every opportunity, but he was driving slower than a grandmother and with more care than a father with a newborn in the backseat.

  As if by its own volition or by a mean twist of fate, Brent blinked twice when the Masserati arrived at the nearest hospital. Perhaps his subconscious was trying to force him to do the right thing.

  He slowed down and glanced at the emergency entrance, knowing it was the right thing to do. Instead he drove past, shaking his head and cursing under his breath. He quickly glanced over and noticed she was still unconscious.

  The last time he had been this out of sorts was about two years ago, Brent thought as he carefully made his way toward his penthouse apartment on Park Avenue. Two years ago he had been to Florida to seal the deal on acquiring a business and on his way back he had stopped in a small town to spend the night.

  He had met her in the diner; she was so different from the women he was used to. She had an air of positivity around her that had caught Brent’s attention immediately. Her bright chocolate-brown eyes had sparkled with youth, and Brent couldn’t resist the temptation when she had been the first to flirt.

  She had spent the night with him in the motel room and Brent had taught her everything she didn’t know. Brent had been shocked when he’d realized she was a virgin, but by that time they had both been begging for release. Too far gone to walk away.

  Not that Brent hadn’t given her the chance; she had looked at him with chocolate-brown eyes and begged him not to stop.

  Brent could still remember how responsive she had been, how her sexy moans had driven him higher, and how he’d wanted to stay when he woke up the following morning. But he didn’t.

  He had woken up and the tightening in his chest had scared the living hell out of him. Brent had wanted to stay in that bed and watch her eyes flutter open, to see the desire in them. He had never felt that way before. He could still remember considering asking her to come to the city with him; that had scared him even more than staying in bed.

  Within five minutes, Brent had showered and left the motel without saying goodbye. That was the first and the only time Brent had ever considered more than one night with a woman.

  The need and longing that had clouded his mind that night had felt so foreign to him; Brent had fled as far and as fast as he could. Seeing all his friends get married, having kids, and settling down had had him thinking back to that night a few times over the past year.

  But even if he had wanted to find her, where would he start?

  He couldn’t even remember asking her name. The attraction between them had been so instant, so powerful; there hadn’t been time for formalities. He would end up in a town he couldn’t even remember the name of, asking for a chocolate-eyed waitress that had worked in the diner two years before. Even if he’d wanted to, it would have been an impossible feat.

  Brent glanced over at the girl beside him and realized this was the first time he’d felt out of control since that night. The only difference was no one was getting lucky. If anything, Brent felt like the unluckiest man in the entire world at that moment.

  As he pulled into the parking garage of his building, he knew what he was doing wasn’t entirely legal, but it was the best plan he had. He would take her to his penthouse and call in a private doctor whom he could trust. Roger had been his friend and doctor for going on five years, and Brent knew he would be discreet. Then, if the good doctor said she was fine, she would be fine. If he didn’t, Brent would have to face the music.

  As Brent moved around the car, his rain-soaked clothes and Italian loafers long forgotten, he placated himself that at least he wasn’t thinking with his cock this time. This was a calculated decision. It might not be the right one, but at least he had made one.

  He scooped the dark-haired gypsy into his arms and her scent intoxicated him. It wasn’t floral and it wasn’t musky; it was spicy and somehow suited her dark hair and eyes that reminded him of a gypsy. Brent adjusted his grip with her handbag over his shoulder and made his way towards the elevator.

  Once they reached the penthouse, Brent kicked open the door and without further thought carried her straight to his bedroom. There were two spare bedrooms, but Brent didn’t even consider putting her there.

  He softly laid her down on his king-sized bed and silently wished she would wake up.

  When she didn’t, Brent knew he needed to rid of her the wet clothes that clung to her body like a second skin. Once she was dry, she might wake up. He squared his shoulders and proceeded to tell himself he wasn’t a pervert; he was simply taking care of her.

  Brent started with her shoes and couldn’t help but smile at her perfectly manicured candy-floss-pink toenails. He held her up with one arm as he slipped off the trench coat.

  Glancing at her white blouse that was completely transparent from the rain, Brent ran a hand through his hair on a groan. Which did he remove first?
Her shirt or her skirt?

  After debating for five minutes, he decided to start on her shirt. He slowly unbuttoned the shirt and slid it off, revealing a simple white cotton bra. It wasn’t supposed to be sexy or even enticing but as it cupped the soft mounds underneath, Brent felt a stirring in his groin.

  He was never drinking again, Brent promised himself as he unclasped her bra to reveal two dusky pink nipples peaked from the cold. It took all of his willpower not to touch them or to tug them into his mouth.

  Next was her skirt. After searching for the zipper, he undid it before sliding it over her hips and then her feet. He dropped it on the floor as his eyes focused on the plain cotton panties she wore. Through the wet material he could see the dark curls that lurked underneath. Brent groaned and slowly tugged the wet material from her skin.

  He jumped back from shock, memories flashing before his eyes.

  It couldn’t be?

  He moved closer to inspect the reason for his shock, the tattoo of a dragonfly that was low on her hip. Brent narrowed his eyes as he took in the long tail and the two distinctive wings on each side of the dragonfly’s body.

  It was her …

  Shock, surprise, and regret filled him as he continued undressing her. How was this possible? How had he managed to run over the one woman that had driven him crazy with need two years ago? The night they had shared together had happened more than a thousand miles away; it couldn’t be her.

  Brent lifted the covers and picked up her naked body gently, tucking her in, allowing himself a final glance of the dragonfly tattoo.

  There was no mistaking it.

  It was her …

  It was the girl he had left in the early morning hours in a motel bed because she had stirred feelings inside him that had scared him to the core.

  4

  It didn’t smell right, was the first thing Tia thought as her mind began to clear from sleep. She kept her eyes closed and inhaled deeply. The scent was clean with citrus undertones and a distinct tinge of furniture polish.

  She hadn’t cleaned last night, had she? Tia rolled over and slid a hand along the bedding. It was soft and silky.

  She shot upright in bed and glanced around her in a panic. Where was she? What had happened? The cool morning air teased her nipples to harden and Tia glanced down at them.

  Shock, shame, and confusion clouded her mind. She was topless in an apartment; she didn’t know and couldn’t even remember how she got there. Tentatively she lifted the smooth stark-white cover and gasped. She was entirely naked.

  Even her underwear had been removed.

  Closing her eyes, she shook her head while taking a deep breath; it would all come back to her in a minute, she tried to convince herself.

  Tia looked around for her clothes or at least her handbag but couldn’t spot them. Panic slowly bubbled to the surface. What had happened last night?

  Tia could remember leaving the restaurant; she could remember the rain; but after that it was just— blank. One large black hole of nothing in her memory.

  Had she gone to a bar? Had she come home with a man?

  Tia mulled over the thought for a few seconds and knew neither was true. She might not have a recollection of what had happened, but she knew that hadn’t happened. She wouldn’t have gone to a bar as that would have meant she had to spend money. With her “going home fund” not nearly where she wanted it to be, Tia knew she wouldn’t have spent money on drinks.

  Going home with a guy?

  Nope, Tia decided, trying to ignore the fear that tasted bitter in her mouth. Tia had only once before gone home with a man she didn’t know and that evening she still regretted. Not the evening itself, but waking up alone in a motel room.

  Whatever had happened last night was unclear to her. The only thing that was clear was that either she had been kidnapped or drugged or both. She slowly moved to the side of the bed when she felt her left leg protesting at the movement. Pushing the covers back, Tia noticed a large purple bruise on her lower left leg. Where had that come from?

  Once she was sitting on the side of the bed with a better view of the room, Tia searched for her belongings again. The entire room was painted a light dove gray. The large mahogany bed that she currently sat in dominated the entire room. A matching chest of drawers and dresser was against the opposite wall. Pencil sketches, meticulously framed, hung against the walls. Thick white drapes guarding the windows matched the white bedding.

  Even though she couldn’t be sure, the room had a distinctly male feel to it. That and the feel of luxury. Tia could imagine hotels having beds this large, with bedding this soft.

  Still no sign of her things.

  Glancing at the window, Tia considered escaping through it before rational thought prevailed. She was naked and had no idea how high up she was; judging from the view she was at least ten to twenty floors above ground level. Scaling a building in the nude was not her idea of fun.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, listening to see if she could hear anything. Maybe her captors were in the next room?

  Nothing. Absolute quiet hung over the room, except for Tia’s breathing that had become rapid from fear.

  Now was her chance. Wherever her captors were, they weren’t here. Tia jumped from the bed and tried to run when a sharp pain shot from her lower leg, causing it to fold underneath her. Tia tumbled to the ground in agony. She grabbed the leg in question and prayed for the pain to go away; she needed to escape.

  Her leg throbbed and the slightest movement only aggravated it. There was a sound at the door.

  Tia held her breath and her leg as she watched the door knob slowly turn. “Don’t come in!”

  It kept turning until it slowly opened.

  “Are you all right?”

  Fear clouded the pain in her leg as Tia watched two large feet step into the room. Tia glanced up and all the blood drained from her face.

  He was at least six feet tall, with dark hair and a ruthless face. She remembered every nuance of his jaw, every shadow in his eyes, and how his muscles had felt beneath her touch.

  It was him.

  The one-night stand from more than two years ago. The man she had lost her virginity to; the man who had left her alone in a motel room. Tia gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes. “What the hell is going on here?”

  He quickly stepped towards her and bent down. “Are you all right?”

  Tia tried unsuccessfully to cover her nudity. She was certain he had undressed her and had already seen everything, but Tia felt self-conscious half-sitting half-lying on the floor completely naked in front of him. Especially since he was fully dressed and looking damn sexy at that.

  “Answer me, goddammit,” Tia demanded.

  He shrugged and shook his head. “In a minute. Where does it hurt?” His voice was rough and low but Tia could also hear he was concerned.

  “My leg.” Tia pointed to the angry bruise.

  “Shit! I’m so sorry.”

  What? Why was he sorry? Tia tried to form a coherent sentence when he suddenly slipped one hand underneath her and picked her up.

  “What?” Tia shrieked.

  “I’m just going to put you back in bed; I don’t think you should walk on that yet.”

  “Who the hell are you to tell me what I should do?” Tia felt out of control. She couldn’t even move to get away from him. As he walked over to the bed with her in his arms, she recognized his scent. He smelt clean and citrusy.

  “I can explain everything if you’ll just settle down.” His deep voice sent thrills up and down Tia’s spine and she tried her best to ignore them.

  His hands felt warm against her skin, his scent hypnotizing her. But none of that mattered. He was still the guy who had taken her innocence before leaving her without a goodbye. Just yesterday she might have been glad to see him again; she wasn’t now.

  He had kidnapped her, undressed her, bruised her, and now he expected her to calm down.

  He set her down ge
ntly on the bed, and Tia felt her body flush with color as his eyes briefly roamed over her naked body before he pulled the bedding over her. A strand of hair had fallen over her eyes in the commotion and before Tia could wipe it away, he gently tucked it behind her ear before he sat down on the bed beside her.

  Her heart did a somersault; Tia was certain it was from fear. Considering the situation she was in it couldn’t be desire, could it? She racked her memory for his name but couldn’t remember ever asking it. She had never regretted that night more than she did right now.

  His bright blue eyes softened as they met her gaze. “Do you have pain anywhere but in your leg?”

  “What? No. What the hell happened? If you don’t mind, I’d like to know why I’ve been injured, kidnapped, and undressed with no memory of any of it.” Tia tried her best to seem demanding, although how commanding could you be sitting in a bed with a sheet pulled up to your chest and your hair hanging in disarray around your face?

  “I …” he started and shook his head. “I’m honestly really sorry. It was dark, and the rain was coming down so hard …”

  Tia frowned; he almost seemed sorry. Why would he be sorry? Before Tia could ask, he continued. “The parking lot was dark and I didn’t see you. By the time I got to you, you were unconscious.”

  Tia’s eyes widened with shock. “You ran me over? You ran me over and proceeded to kidnap me? Surely there is a law against that.”

  His face paled and his eyes widened, large pools of blue watching her carefully. “I’m sure there is, but if I can just explain.”

  Tia crossed her arms and looked out the window; she didn’t want to hear anymore. She was getting her clothes and heading straight for the nearest police station. She would figure out the logistics of walking with a bum leg later.