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The thought of Fiona never recovering her memory made his stomach clench. He’d suffered nightmares after their exfil from Afghanistan and honestly wouldn’t mind forgetting the faces of his fellow soldiers who’d tragically died in his arms. Yet the flip side of never remembering family or friends sounded awful. As much as he hated to admit it, better to remember the good and the bad times than nothing at all. “I hope that’s not the case.”
“Me too. But it’s a possibility you should keep in mind.”
“I will. Thanks, Rex.”
“I’ll be in touch,” his boss said, before ending the call.
Would Fiona remember her life at some point? He’d wanted her to recall winning Olympic gold and her father, if the guy was innocent in this.
Swallowing hard, he used his phone to find the nearest rental car facility. There was one only a mile away, close enough to walk if Fiona didn’t mind.
He turned his attention back to the television. The news station had a running banner along the bottom of the screen featuring the headlines of the day. As he watched and waited for Fiona, he didn’t see anything criminal.
He was about to turn away when the familiar name of Liam Murphy’s horse, Fiona’s Folly, flashed on the screen. He crossed the room and hit the volume button, swallowing a groan when he realized he’d missed the story.
Annoyed with himself, he flipped through the channels, hoping to find the news on another station. Maybe it was nothing, but he wanted to hear what, if anything was discussed about the upcoming race.
“Hey, did you talk to Rex?” Fiona’s question had him turning to look at her. He nearly gasped out loud at how amazing she looked. She’d obviously washed and blow-dried her hair, and the change of clothing showcased her slender figure. He stared at her, unable to think of something to say.
“Oh, are you wondering about your sweatshirt?” Fiona asked, looking self-conscious. “I was going to hang on to it for a while if you don’t mind. I can always wash it and return it once this is over.”
His sweatshirt? He almost laughed but managed to hold back. “You can keep the sweatshirt for as long as you need. I’m just—wow. You look amazing.”
“Clean clothes and shampoo will do that.” She flushed. “I took the bandage off and put it back on when I was finished in the shower. I hope that’s okay.”
“Um, yeah. I’ll check it later.” He kicked himself for not thinking of stopping for fresh first aid supplies. “We’ll pick up more gauze too.”
“Okay.” She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “Did you? Talk to Rex, I mean?”
“Yeah.” He forced himself to focus on the task of keeping her safe and investigating the source of the danger, rather than on how stunning she looked, even without wearing the yellow dress. “He’s going to see if he can get us tickets for tomorrow’s race.”
“Okay, but what if we can’t get tickets?” Her brow furrowed. “I have a feeling they’re sold out.”
“Rex said that, too, but we’ll worry about that later.” He checked his phone battery. It was up to 40 percent charged. “As soon as my phone is ready, we’ll head out to pick up a rental car. It’s about a mile away.” He searched her gaze. “Are you okay to walk that far?”
“Sure.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Piece of cake after last night, right?”
“Right.” He glanced toward the television, more so to get a grip. Mooning over Fiona wasn’t part of the plan. She was another assignment, nothing more. Besides, even if she wasn’t a woman in need of protecting, she’d never be interested in a guy like him. He lived a simple and uncomplicated life.
And he didn’t even like horse racing. The sport seemed harsh on the animals, although he remembered reading how Fiona’s Folly had won without the jockey using a crop.
Whatever. It didn’t matter. She came from a wealthy family. He didn’t. And he didn’t aspire to wealth either. Money was meaningless in the big scheme of things. Rich people died as easily as poor people.
He and Fiona would end up as two ships passing in the night.
As he glanced up at the television, he caught a glimpse of the name Fiona’s Folly sliding across the screen. Lunging forward, he grabbed the remote and unmuted the volume. But he was too late. The announcer had already moved on to a new story.
Swallowing a curse, Rex didn’t much care for swearing, he quickly switched stations, trying to find the story he’d missed.
“What’s wrong?” Fiona asked, coming over to join him.
“I missed something about your father’s horse for the second time now.” He did his best to ignore the warm vanilla scent of her skin. Did women use that stuff on purpose to drive men crazy?
Probably.
“What about his horse?” Fiona frowned as he continued switching stations. Then she put a hand on his arm. “It could be nothing significant, but stay on one station, they’ll come back to the story eventually.”
She was right, so he returned to the original station and set the remote back on the table. Then he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. “I guess it could just be that Fiona’s Folly is the favorite in tomorrow’s race. I just thought . . .” He stopped abruptly when an older man’s face filled the screen.
