Page 20 of Bedroom Therapy

Chapter Five

Instantly, alarmed by the sound of distress, Amanda pressed her back against the mattress, trying to figure out where she was and why.

It was dark, with only a narrow shaft of light coming in between the curtains, and it took a moment for her fogged brain to remember that she was in a motel room bed—and why there was a man lying next to her.

His body jerked, and she shifted toward him. “Zachary?”

He didn’t answer. He appeared to be asleep. But his head moved from side to side on the pillow, and she knew that he was in the grip of a nightmare.

“It’s all right. Zachary, wake up.”

When he didn’t answer, she slid over and laid a hand on his warm, muscular shoulder.

She knew immediately that she’d made a big mistake. He was still in the grip of a nightmare, but his instincts took over instantly. Flipping her to her back, he came down heavily on top of her, his big body pressing hers into the mattress.

Instinctively, she flailed against the weight of his chest pressed to hers. At the same time, she tried to let him know where he was and whom he was with.

“Zachary! It’s Amanda. We’re in your hotel room. Please . . . Zachary, you’re scaring me,” she gasped. At first nothing happened. Then she sensed a change in him.

One minute he was on top of her. In the next, his weight lifted. But she sensed him hovering over her, looking down at her in the darkness.

“Amanda?”

“Yes.”

She saw him drag a hand through his hair. “Christ. What the hell am I doing? I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” She swallowed. “But you . . . frightened me.”

“Oh Christ,” he repeated. “I’m sorry,” His raw tone told her he hated what he’d just done.

“What happened?” she asked, making an effort to speak normally.

He heaved a sigh. “The guy. The kidnapper. I was trying to stop him from getting away. Then you woke me up—only he wasn’t here. And you were.”

He turned on the light beside the bed. Although the bulb was low, they both blinked in the sudden illumination.

“You mean the man who kidnapped your wife?” she asked.

“Yeah. I guess what happened tonight brought it all back. I was dreaming about him, but it was pretty mixed up. In the dream, he’d kidnapped you, and I was frantic to find you.”

“Oh,” she breathed, thinking about how she’d figured into his unconscious.

“Then I did. He and I were fighting. Only you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. My bed, to be exact. And I was going after you—not him.”

The look of remorse clouding his features and the anguish in his voice tore at her. Her fingers stroked up and down his arm, but he pulled away from her and flopped to his back, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“I convinced you it was okay to stay here with me. Now I’m afraid I misled you.”

“Could you clarify that?”

“I’m dangerous,” he muttered.

“No.”

“What do you mean—no. I attacked you.”

“Well, you started to. But you didn’t do any damage. You stopped as soon as you knew it was me.”

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