The Bride with No Name

“You can pick a lock.” She snorted.

“Picking locks isn’t a skill I’ve ever acquired,” he said matter-of-factly, still watching the road. The streets were well-illuminated, but the cover of darkness drew out the drunk drivers, promising to hide them well. Until the point of impact. He was always extra alert driving home after closing up.

He heard Venus blow out an impatient breath. “What are my other options?”

He’d had a hunch she’d ask. “I can turn around and go back to the homeless shelter, or I could drop you off at the police station.”

“That’s it?”

For the time being, Trevor decided to omit mentioning his parents’ house. “That’s it.”

Venus was silent for a moment. He could almost hear her mulling over the pros and cons. “That lock on the bedroom door really work?”

He could tell what went through her mind. Should he be insulted or flattered? He did want her to understand he wasn’t the type to take advantage of a woman—ever.

“Venus, we were alone on the beach and alone in the restaurant. If I’d wanted to do anything with you or to you, I’d have already done it. I don’t need to take you to my apartment for that. Understood?”

“Understood.” Her next question came out of nowhere and took him by surprise. “Then you don’t find me attractive?”

Wow, talk about getting thrown a curve. “I didn’t say that.” He supposed even a woman with amnesia needed to have her self-esteem reinforced. “What I am saying is that whatever appetites I might have I can keep under control. You don’t have anything to worry about from me.” He eased his foot off the gas, ready to make a U-turn if he had to. There was no one else on the road for now. “Okay, the choice is up to you. Homeless shelter, police precinct or my apartment. Which will it be?”

Venus was silent for a moment, thinking. The man made a compelling argument for trusting him. But she couldn’t help wondering if she would regret this. Still, something inside of her trusted him, although she couldn’t have said why.

“Your apartment.” And then she frowned.

He glanced at her before easing back on the accelerator. She still looked uncomfortable. Why? Did she want to change her mind?

“What?”

Venus shrugged, feeling helpless as she wandered through this murky mental maze. “I’m trying to remember if I know any self-defense disciplines.”

Trevor laughed shortly. The woman was not the trusting type. He supposed that was a good thing. In the same situation, he wouldn’t want his sister, Kelsey, to be blindly trusting.

“You won’t need them,” he assured her. And then he smiled. “We’re even on this, you know.”

Her frowned deepened as she looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“For all I know, you could be a ticking time bomb. This might not have registered with you, but I’m opening my place up to a complete stranger who might just be lying to me.”

She didn’t seem to hear the comment about lying. “A complete stranger who’s—” she looked at the clock on the dashboard “—approximately four hours old, give or take, if you go by the length of my memories.”

He empathized, knowing how frustrated he would feel in her position. “That’ll improve soon.”

God, she so wanted to believe him. “You really believe that?”

His expression was a portrait of sincerity. “Yeah, I do.”

But she needed more than that. She needed logical reasons. Reasons the doctor in the E.R. really hadn’t provided. “Why?”

“Because I’m basically an optimist.”

That wasn’t what she was hoping to hear. Venus sighed. “Well, I hope you’re right, optimist. I really hope you’re right.”

So do I. But Trevor kept the thought to himself.

Sunflower Creek Apartment Homes was a complex composed of nearly two hundred garden apartments, none standing taller than two stories. Trevor’s was one such apartment, on the second floor. It was halfway between the center of the complex where the community pool was located, and the car ports. The upshot was that particular area was fairly quiet.

At one in the morning it was almost eerily so.

Staying close, Venus followed her rescuer up a flight of stone stairs. The paper slippers she’d gotten from the E.R. swished against each step as she crossed them. Shestill had on his jacket, but the breeze found its way under the skirt of her dress, sliding along her bare legs and making her shiver.

For some reason, the cold reminded her how truly needy she was, at least for the moment.

Unlocking his door, Trevor walked in and turned on the light, then looked over his shoulder.

“C’mon in,” he coaxed. He took a guess at the reason for her apparent apprehension. “There’s no one else here, Venus.”

“Is there usually someone here?”

“Not when I’m not here.” About to put his keys down on the counter, Trevor thought better of it. He tucked the keys back into his pocket. Just in case. It was better to be safe than sorry.

And then he thought of something. “Wait here a second,” he told Venus as he went to the rear of the apartment and his bedroom.

Venus barely nodded in response. Instead, she stood there, looking around, feeling she had no idea what, wishing at least one thing could come back to her, however small.

But nothing did.

This was awful. She didn’t even know if she was a nice person or not. Were there people out searching for her? Or were they just glad that she’d disappeared?

Or, worse, was she alone and no one even knew she was missing?

In the background, she heard a wardrobe door being slid back and forth. Her frown returned. What was that all about?

The thought no sooner formed in her head than Trevor returned to the living room. He held a blue pullover sweater, a pair of jeans and a pair of almost brand-new sneakers.

“These might fit you,” he said, laying everything out on the coffee table.

Venus looked at the three items for a long moment. The clothing looked to be her size. Did they belong to his wife? To his girlfriend? And where was the woman who belonged to these clothes?

She raised her eyes to his. “Well, they’re too small for you, so I’m guessing this means you’re not a crossdresser. Won’t whoever they belong to mind my wearing them?” she asked.

She was being flippant again. He was becoming familiar with the way her mind worked. She was flippant when something made her uncomfortable. Except that right how, he hadn’t a clue what that might be.

“I sincerely doubt it, or she wouldn’t have forgotten them when she left.”

She. It struck Venus that “she” was a very ambiguous pronoun and she was in no mood for more problems or complications. “‘She?’”

“Someone I thought I knew,” was all he said.