Page 81 of Sweet Royal Romance Suspense

“You and me both.” Ray sounded happy, and Curt loved that. “All right. I’ll let you know any progress we see. Hopefully your girl gets some rest and her memory comes back. If we’ve got two idiots trying to take advantage of innocent female tourists in my mountains, I want to take them out and quick.”

“You and me both.” Curt stole his brother’s line, but in a very different context. He and Ray both took their country’s safety seriously. He wasn’t as intense as Ray about it, but he felt it as deeply. Aliya wouldn’t get hurt on his watch. He couldn’t handle it and would surely become a true mountain man recluse.

If something happened to Aliya, he was afraid he’d close his doors to friends and wanderers alike and shut down completely.

Chapter Seven

Aliya took a shower, grateful for Curt’s mom or whoever had stocked the bathroom with shampoo, conditioner, body wash, hair serum, lotion, night cream, lip balms, and even some tinted moisturizer she could use in the morning.

She scrubbed out the hospital scrubs in the sink and wished she’d thought to bring her own clothes from the hospital. As she finished hanging the scrubs and her underwear in the shower, she realized that Curt had a washer and dryer she could’ve used. Was she simply exhausted or had her head injury marred her thought process? She put on the underwear, a tank top, and soft fleece shorts that fit the best, kneeled and said a prayer of gratitude, and then slipped into the sheets. They were high-quality sheets, and the pillow was so nice she felt like her head was floating on clouds.

Or maybe her head was just cloudy.

The bed and sheets and pillow and everything were very nice, but she was much, much too warm. She doubted they wasted money on air conditioning in this mountainous country. Climbing out of bed, she walked to the windows and slid one open. A lovely breeze immediately entered the room, cooling her down and bringing the fresh smell of pine and mountain air. Lovely.

She lay back down and pictured Curt’s beautiful blue eyes and kind smile. Was he too good to be true? Something about that phrase bothered her. It bothered her a lot. Somebody had said it recently, or she’d been thinking it recently. One of her friends. Was it Gracie? Horror for Gracie’s predicament and whatever her friend was going through tore at her. It was unnerving to not have all her memories and be helpless to help Gracie and know who those awful men were. Thank heavens for Curt.

Sleep finally claimed her, but it seemed only minutes later that she woke to voices. She groggily sat up in bed and listened again. Voices and movement. Outside her door, out in the hallway. And voices outside her window. Something was wrong about that. What?

She lay back on the soft pillow and then she realized—that was too many men. There were only two guards, so if they were conferring outside her window, there shouldn’t be footsteps and voices in the upstairs hall. Fear slid over her so quickly she burrowed into the blankets and felt like a turtle pulling back into her shell. Couldn’t she hide out here and let the guards and Curt deal with anything scary? It probably was nothing to worry about anyway.

But what if it was? She had no idea who she’d been running from. It might be an entire army who had hurt Gracie and pushed her off the waterfall.

She didn’t want to, but she forced herself to slide quietly out of bed and creep to the door. The room was dark, but her eyes were adjusted enough to make out the outline of the door. Her head hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Slowly turning the knob and cracking the door, she heard the voices fade away. She eased it open wider. The hallway had soft nightlights built into the walls. She watched the guards disappear down the stairs.

If the two guards were in the hallway, who had been outside her window?

She didn’t waste time deliberating about it. She scurried to the next door, pushed on the handle, and flung herself inside the room. Shutting the door behind her, she couldn’t see a thing.

“Curt?” she called softly.

No answer.

“Curt?” She blindly walked farther into the room, assuming the bed was in front of her.

Her legs thumped into the bed and she fell forward, planting her hands on the mattress to brace herself. She groped blindly to stop her fall. Her torso hit what she hoped was Curt’s feet and her hands grabbed at his legs.

“Who’s there?”

She felt him scrabble upward. He grabbed her forearms and tugged her farther onto the bed, flipping her over and pinning her upper body underneath his. All the air whooshed out of her.

“Curt, it’s me,” she rushed out. “It’s Aliya.”

“Aliya?” His voice softened and he moved quickly, pushing off of her and flipping on a bedside lamp. He stood and stared down at her, his blue eyes full of confusion.

Aliya was still stunned from being pinned so quickly. She lay there trying to get her bearings and staring up at Curt. It was the second time she’d seen him with no shirt on. It was such a lovely sight that she completely forgot why she’d invaded his bedroom.

“Aliya?”

“Yes?” She moistened her lips and just kept on staring like a preschool boy seeing his first dirt bike.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked.

“Oh … oh!” She scrambled off the bed and stood opposite him. “There were voices outside my window and there were voices outside my doorway in the hall and it didn’t add up. There are only two guards. Are they makin’ conversation with themselves or did some bad guys show up?”

His gaze changed to a wary look. “The guards aren’t switching out until morning.”

Her eyes widened and fear filled her again. He slid open a drawer, pulled out a pistol, and walked to her. This tough, alluring man, only in some comfortable-looking shorts, strutting her direction, holding a pistol to boot like some kind of perfect action hero, made warmth and desire rush through her. She almost forgot to be scared of whoever was outside.

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