Loe raamatut: «The Cradle Files»

Garrett couldn’t deny Lexie.

He opened his mouth to tell her, but that was as far as he got. He saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. Behind her. To the right of the double French doors that led to his backyard.

“Get down,” Garrett said. He practically whispered it, but it still came through loud and clear like an order.

Lexie tried to follow his gaze, no doubt to see what had triggered his reaction, but he didn’t give her a chance. He slapped off the light switch, plunging them into darkness. In the same motion, he hooked his arm around her waist and shoved her to the floor. It was barely in time.

Because a bullet slammed through one of the French doors, pelting them with a deadly spray of splintered wood and broken glass….

The Cradle Files
Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former U.S. Air Force captain Delores Fossen feels as if she was genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married a U.S. Air Force Top Gun, who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Sergeant Garrett O’Malley—A bad-boy San Antonio cop with something to prove to himself and his high-achieving family. But his plans and his life take a dangerous turn when Lexie Rayburn, his former lover, returns with news that someone has stolen their newborn baby.

Lexie Rayburn—A ruthless doctor stole her baby minutes after she gave birth, and the doctor’s attempt to kill Lexie has robbed her of vital memories. But she has no trouble remembering the attraction she feels for Garrett. Unfortunately, a relationship with Garrett could cost him his badge and their lives.

Billy Avery—Lexie’s former boss who’s now behind bars awaiting appeal of a felony conviction. Would he have taken Lexie and Garrett’s baby as leverage to prevent Lexie from testifying against him if he’s granted a new trial?

Dr. Linnay Blake—Director of the clinic where the baby was stolen. Dr. Blake could be merely a scapegoat for the real kidnapper, or she could be behind a sinister plot to provide stolen babies to unsuspecting adoptive parents.

Alicia Peralta—The clinic nurse who tries to help Garrett and Lexie find their child. Are Alicia’s motives pure, or is she trying to steer them away from her own criminal activities?

Dr. Andrew Darnell—He’s the obstetrician Lexie believes tried to kill her. Unfortunately, there’s no proof, and with Lexie’s broken memories, the police have little to go on.

Irving Kent—Dr. Darnell’s attorney and the man linked to many suspicious adoptions. Is he responsible for the disappearance of Lexie and Garrett’s child?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter One

With water snaking down his body, Sergeant Garrett O’Malley headed toward the laundry room in search of a clean towel—something he wished he’d done before his shower. He only made it a step outside the steamy bathroom when he realized he wasn’t alone.

There was a shadowy figure standing at the other end of the dark hall.

Adrenaline knifed through him, and his heartbeat went into overdrive. He made a split-second assessment to make sure it wasn’t a family member. It wasn’t. And he automatically reached for his weapon, which obviously wasn’t there, since he didn’t have on a stitch of clothes.

He cursed.

Because that’s when he noticed the intruder was armed.

“Don’t move,” she said in a hoarse whisper.

She. It was definitely a female. Garrett didn’t hear enough of her voice, though, to recognize it. It was the same for the woman herself. She stayed in the darkness, her face and body hidden.

Well, if this was a robbery, she’d picked a good time for it. He was not only towel-less, he was totally unprepared. Garrett’s mind raced with questions. What did she want, and how the devil had she gotten in?

And did she have plans to kill him?

His cop’s brain immediately went to work, and within seconds he decided this wasn’t a good time for an all-out fight.

Not with her pointing that gun straight at him.

If he couldn’t talk her into surrendering her weapon, his best move would be to make a dive for his bedroom—where he’d left his loaded 9 mm, standard issue Glock on his dresser. Thankfully, his bedroom and that Glock were only about eight feet away, and the door was wide open.

Of course, being buck naked didn’t help.

And the dive onto the hardwood floor would hurt like crazy, but it was better than getting shot. He’d been there, done that, not once but twice, and he didn’t want to repeat the ordeal anytime soon.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” Garrett demanded while he calculated the best moment to disarm her or to begin that dive. If he could somehow distract her, that would help.

But he immediately rethought the idea.

Since she’d broken into the home of a cop and was holding him at gunpoint, she probably wasn’t the distractible type. If she knew he was a cop, that was. Maybe this was a random burglary. That didn’t make the situation any less dangerous. In fact, the stakes might escalate if she discovered who he really was. She might try to kill him just so she could eliminate a witness.

She stepped closer, toward the milky-yellow light that spilled out from the bathroom. Her cautious footsteps barely made a sound. But her breathing sure did. It was coming out in rough, hurried gusts.

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

Garrett froze and put his Glock-retrieving plan on hold. Now he recognized that voice, and it set off all kinds of alarms in his head.

Not good alarms, either.

“Lexie?” he asked. “Is that you?”

She froze. For a few moments. And then she inched closer still. She stared at him and squinted, as if trying to peer through the darkness for a good look. Garrett did the same.

Yep. It was Lexie Rayburn all right, though he’d never seen her wear her hair that long or in that particular style. Her straight rust-colored locks fell choppy, loose and disheveled onto her shoulders.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been cursing a blue streak and had thrown her panties at him. Well, maybe not at him, exactly, but in his general direction.

He was lucky she hadn’t thrown something heavier and more lethal.

That throwing incident was… When? A few months shy of a year ago, when Lexie had walked out of his life. But she hadn’t just walked out. She’d left him with a lot of questions, no answers, and she’d put his badge on the line. Since his badge was the most important thing in his life, that had not sat well with him.

It still didn’t.

Garrett’s jaw tightened.

She moved even closer, and he got a better look at her gun. An RG .22, commonly referred to as a Saturday Night Special. Another surprise. The cheap, no-frills weapon wasn’t her usual choice of firearms, but then neither were the clothes. She wore loose faded jeans, scuffed Doc Martens and a baggy navy-blue flannel shirt that was frayed at the cuffs. It was at least two sizes too big and practically swallowed her.

“Garrett O’Malley?” she asked.

And it was definitely a question. No doubt Lexie’s version of sarcasm.

Oh, this was going to get messy.

He just stared at her.

“Are you Garrett O’Malley?” she pressed.

Riled at her dry-as-dust sarcasm, at the gun and at the woman herself, he opened his arms. “You tell me. You’re not seeing anything you haven’t seen before.”

He’d meant his remark to sting, a reminder that he’d been her one-night stand. Her choice. Not his.

She took his remark as an invitation. Her gaze combed over him, starting at his face. Her marine-blue eyes met his green ones. Briefly. And then she slid that gaze all the way past his bare chest and stomach to his equally bare groin.

Her eyes paused.

Considerably.

For a long time.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so bothered by the close scrutinization from a lover, former or otherwise, but these obviously weren’t normal circumstances.

“Mind telling me why you’re here and what your plans are for that gun?” he insisted.

She nodded. Not a confident I’m-in-charge-here nod, either. It was shaky. In fact, there was something shaky about her entire demeanor. “I want answers.”

So, this was maybe a payback visit in order to rehash their last encounter. A blast from the past. Lucky him. “I don’t know the questions, but I have a few of my own. For starters, how did you get into my house?” Because he knew for a fact she didn’t have a key.

She tipped her head toward the kitchen. “The patio door. You left it unlocked when you took out the trash after you got home from work.”

Hell’s bells. Not the brightest move he could have made, especially for a cop. He’d made that little faux pas only about fifteen minutes ago, which meant she hadn’t waited too long to confront him. Maybe she’d delayed her entrance until he got in the shower so she could catch him when he wasn’t near his Glock. Or perhaps she’d waited until he was what polite company would call indisposed.

She’d succeeded.

He was as indisposed as he could get. Still, that theory only created more questions.

“Why the gun?” he asked.

She glanced at it and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

“You can’t.” And that was a sore spot for him. Even now. “But then, I obviously can’t trust you, either. Still, a gun? Judas Priest, Lexie. That’s a little over the top, even for you.”

Her forehead bunched up. “I wanted to make sure you listened to what I had to say.”

“Oh, I’m listening. Pardon the pun, but I’m all ears.” Garrett turned toward his bedroom, but then stopped and looked at her. Actually, he glared. And he knew his glare was a winner. That particular facial expression alone had gotten perps to surrender. “I’m going to get dressed now, and I’d rather you didn’t try to kill me while I do that, okay?”

He didn’t wait for her to respond or concur with his smart-mouth challenge. Figuring that Lexie wouldn’t shoot him in the back, Garrett headed to his bedroom.

“Wait a minute,” she snarled. She hurried after him, but then stopped in the doorway. “Don’t just walk away from me. I’m holding you at gunpoint.”

“Believe me, I’m aware of that. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather not have this conversation or try to wrestle that .22 away from you while I’m buck naked. And make no mistake about it—I am going to wrestle that gun away from you if you don’t come to your senses.”

Besides, if this did turn into a wrestling match or even more, Garrett didn’t want his fellow peace officers to show up and find him wearing only his birthday suit and a glare. There had already been enough rumors and career-damaging innuendos as it was. He didn’t want to add this to the record, even if seeing Lexie brought back memories.

Both bad and good—and very, very good ones.

Riled not only at Lexie, but at himself and his too vivid, lust-induced reminiscence, Garrett grabbed a pair of Wranglers from the floor and slipped them on. Not easily. His still-soaking-wet body caused the denim to drag, catch and cling. Worse, it dragged, caught and clung while Lexie gawked at the entire awkward, semihumiliating process.

He didn’t let her gawking deter him, though. He zipped them up—carefully, since he wasn’t wearing underwear—while he also checked the position of his Glock. He didn’t relish the idea of drawing that gun on Lexie, but it was obvious she had a bone to pick with him. He didn’t want that bone-picking argument to turn into shots being fired.

Ironic.

Because he’d never thought of Lexie as dangerous. Armed, yes. Capable of kicking butt. But not lethal in a criminal, out-of-control sort of way. He was obviously wrong. Any woman who would pull a gun on him so they could talk had gone a few steps past that dangerous level and was definitely out of control.

What was wrong with her, anyway?

Yes, she had a right to be riled. But, heck, so did he. More so than she obviously was. Yet Lexie seemed to be putting all the blame on him.

“You didn’t wait around for the trial to end,” Garrett said, figuring his words would hit a few raw nerves. Because she hadn’t waited around for a lot of things—like to finish her testimony. Or even to say goodbye. “But I guess you know your former boss was convicted on all charges and is behind bars?”

“William Avery,” she said.

“William?” Garrett repeated. He stared at her. Well now, that confirmed something was truly wrong. Lexie always called her former boss Billy.

“I read about William, and you, on the Internet,” she continued. “That’s how I knew you were a cop. That’s how I figured out where to find you.”

Yet more confirmation that something was wrong. Lexie knew he was a cop, and she darn sure knew where to find him. “Are you okay?”

A soft burst of air left her mouth. Almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. Her voice was laced with fatigue and sarcasm when she admitted, “No. I’m not okay.” And she left her somewhat lame explanation at that.

“Did Billy’s…William’s friends threaten you or something?” It might explain why she was here. Maybe she’d come because Garrett was a cop. However, that was a stretch. There were a lot of cops in San Antonio, and he was almost certainly the last one she’d ask for help.

“Maybe,” she mumbled, as if she were considering that for the first time. “I don’t know if he’s behind this or not. But I don’t think so.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she blinked back tears.

Actual tears.

All right. That took a chunk out of the Texas-size chip Garrett carried on his shoulder. Here, he wanted nothing more than to tell Lexie that her untimely departure had not only left him in departmental hot water, it’d also put a few fractures in his desires to get involved in another relationship—ever. But Garrett put his own issues and old grudges on the back burner. After what she’d done to him, he didn’t care much for Lexie. In fact, what he felt for her fell into the strongly dislike category, but it was obvious she was in trouble. Unfortunately, that and the tears brought out protective instincts that he knew he stood no chance of suppressing.

Still, he’d try. Hard.

Because, after all, this was Lexie. He wasn’t ready to go a second round with her. The sooner he could get her out of his life, the better.

“Other than the veiled threats he made to you during the trial, I haven’t heard anything from Billy Avery,” he tried to assure her, while he calculated how he was going to subdue her so he could confiscate that gun. “In fact, he’s been a model prisoner. Probably because he’s hoping to have the murder and racketeering verdicts overturned on appeal.” With that, Garrett paused. Rethought. “He threatened you so you wouldn’t testify against him if he was granted a new trial?”

Lexie shook her head and left the doorway. She stepped warily into the room, her gaze darting around as if she expected someone to jump out from the corners. “I haven’t spoken to Billy Avery.”

Garrett believed her, especially since prison authorities would have alerted someone in the SAPD if Lexie had phoned or shown up at the prison. But believing her on that specific point didn’t help clear up everything else.

“Look, I could stand here and try to guess what’s wrong,” he stated, “but wouldn’t it be easier if you just told me what this is all about?”

She looked at him as if trying to decide what to say. Or what not to say. Finally, she nodded. Then nodded again. “Someone tried to kill me.”

Whoa. That got his attention. “Who?”

But he was already fairly sure of the answer. If someone had tried to kill her, then Billy Avery or one of his associates was likely behind it. That was the reason the cops and the feds had wanted Lexie in the Witness Protection Program. A program she’d declined by simply leaving and not telling anyone, including Garrett, her whereabouts.

He hadn’t thought for a minute that she was dead, either. She was too resourceful for that. So over the past months he had come to accept that she’d disappeared because of him. Their little encounter had nearly cost the state a guilty verdict for Billy Avery, and it’d nearly cost Garrett his badge. The flack hadn’t stopped there. His brother and sister, both fellow cops, had had their own sterling careers tarnished by standing up for him.

No. Garrett wouldn’t forget the mess Lexie had made of his life and the trouble she’d caused for his family.

“I don’t know who tried to kill me,” she said. “But that’s not the reason I came here.” Lexie plowed the fingers of her left hand through her hair and scooped it away from her face. It didn’t help. The loose strands simply fell back into place. “I need to ask you something, something personal, and I want the truth.”

Garrett waited. And waited. But she didn’t finish her request for information. She just stood there, tears threatening and her bottom lip trembling. He forced himself to stay put. Comforting could lead to holding.

Or shooting.

Neither was going to happen, not tonight. Not ever.

“You need to know what?” he pressed. “I’m not a mind reader, Lexie.”

Without breaking eye contact, and without lowering her gun, she sat down on the foot of his bed. The mattress creaked softly.

She pulled in a long, weary breath, released it. “Are you the father of my baby?”

Chapter Two

“Am I what?” Garrett O’Malley demanded.

But he didn’t just demand it. His hands went to his hips, and he pinned his Celtic-green gaze on her. With that stare, he questioned her integrity. Her presence.

And her sanity.

Lexie was right there with him. She, too, was questioning a lot of things, her sanity included. It was probably a huge mistake to come here like this, but she hadn’t had a choice. She needed answers, and Sergeant Garrett O’Malley was the person most likely to have them.

Not exactly a comforting thought.

It was obvious that he hated her. Why, she didn’t know. But from the few things she’d learned, he probably had good reason to. It was possible she had reasons to hate him as well.

“I asked if you’re the father of my baby,” Lexie clarified, though she was certain he’d heard her.

Hearing and grasping, however, were two different things. She’d basically just delivered a bombshell and was giving Garrett O’Malley mere seconds to absorb it. Heck, she’d had days and hadn’t fully managed to, and what she had managed to understand, she didn’t like.

She was in a lot of trouble.

But then, perhaps, so was Garrett.

She’d save that news for later. First, there was the issue of paternity.

“Well?” she prompted.

Lexie saw the moment that her bombshell actually registered. His eyes widened. Every muscle in his body seemed to turn to iron.

“Oh, man.” He groaned and stepped back, his chest pumping as if he were suddenly starved for air. “Was that an honest-to-goodness question?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” And she tried to brace herself for an equally honest answer. He held her life, her heart and her future in his hands, and he didn’t even know it.

Yet.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Only to open it again so he could curse. “Why are you doing this?”

She ignored his question. “Did we sleep together?”

“No.” He said it without a shred of hesitation.

Lexie’s heart sank to her knees. Oh, mercy. Had she gotten this all wrong?

Garrett let that unhesitant no bristle between them while he stared daggers at her. His mouth tightened into a semi-sneer. “But we did have sex,” he clarified. “You left before either of us could get any sleep.”

The relief flooded through her. Why, she didn’t know. Other than the fact O’Malley was a cop, he didn’t seem like the best choice for fatherhood or a likely candidate to help keep her alive. From what she’d read about him, he had a penchant for attracting trouble. That penchant apparently included attracting her, as well.

“So, we weren’t in love or anything like that?” she questioned.

“No.” He practically spat out the word. More profanity followed. “If you want to put a label on it, we were in brief, temporary lust.”

Yes. She could see that. Garrett O’Malley was, well, hot by anyone’s standards.

Especially hers.

Even with the fatigue and the relentless haze in her brain, she couldn’t deny that. He was lean and lethal, just over six feet tall, with a body and face that had probably garnered him many invitations to women’s beds. Not exactly the knight in shining armor type with those jeans that clung to every part of him.

Heck, he wasn’t even the cop type.

With that sopping wet, a-little-too-long, bronze-colored hair, hint of desperado stubble and bad boy demeanor, he would have been more at home on a Harley.

Or in a police lineup.

“Lust,” Lexie mumbled. She’d counted on something more. Much more. Because she desperately needed his help. Still, lust would have to do, since it was all she had. “Did we have sex about nine and a half months ago?”

Oh, that riled him. She saw the anger flash in his eyes. It merged with the confusion and the profanity that was already there.

“You know we did.” He stepped closer and aimed an accusing index finger at her. She wanted to get off the bed and move back. To keep her distance. But if she tried to stand up now, she’d risk falling flat on her face.

That would hardly be an effective bargaining position.

“So, what the hell is this all about?” he asked. “And while you’re explaining, get to the part about me being the father of your baby. Are you actually saying you were pregnant?”

She considered her answer. There was only one way to go with this—she had to tell him the truth. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure just how much was true and how much was a product of the drug that’d been used to try to murder her.

“Let me start from the beginning.” Lexie paused. “Or at least what I know to be the beginning. I haven’t seen a doctor, but it seems as if I’ve, uh, lost some of my memory.”

His accusing finger dropped slowly back to his side, and even though his mouth didn’t gape, it came close. “You have amnesia?”

She nodded. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Lexie tried not to huff at his sarcasm. They had too many battles ahead of them without him questioning everything she said. “Maybe is as good of an answer as I can give you right now. That’s why I pawned my necklace and bought the gun. Because I didn’t know if we were friends or enemies.”

“There’s a lot of gray area as far as our relationship is concerned. And some not so gray,” he gruffly added. But the gruffness eased a bit when he continued. “You pawned your necklace—the gold rose with the diamond in the center?”

It was an odd question, but it also seemed important. She nodded. “Was the necklace a gift from you?”

“No. We didn’t exchange gifts. Your father gave it to you. I’m just surprised you’d be willing to part with it.”

She’d parted with it because she hadn’t known its value, and because she’d needed money to survive. However, knowing now that her father had given it to her made her ache at losing something so precious.

Of course, she’d lost something else far more precious.

“Why don’t we get back to your explanation?” Garrett insisted. “Approximately nine and a half months ago, we were together in a hotel room in downtown San Antonio.”

“Having sex,” she provided, latching on to the information as if it were nuggets of gold. Which in a way it was. Everything she could learn might bring her closer to unraveling this puzzle inside her head.

He confirmed that with a nod. “Afterward—”

She held up her hand. “Don’t go there yet. Why was I in a hotel room with you having sex?”

The question earned her a blank stare. Hooking his thumbs into the waist of his jeans, Garrett leaned against the wall. “You honestly don’t remember?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking. I’m not here to relive our past.”

“Right. You’re here because you want to know if I’m the father of your baby.” More skepticism. Lexie totally understood his reaction. But she could also see that he was mentally doing the math. Nine and a half months ago fit with the other pieces of the puzzle.

She nodded. “And because someone tried to kill me.”

His left eyebrow arched. Not exactly a vote of confidence. “Okay, I’ll play. We were in a hotel room because you were in my protective custody. You were a material witness for your former boss, Billy Avery, and you testified against him for racketeering. Well, partly testified. You made it through the first day of questioning, but you left before you could finish.”

“I was Billy Avery’s bodyguard,” she supplied.

He made a sound of agreement. “You remember that part, so your amnesia must be cured.” More cynicism. Perhaps his way of coping. Or better yet, his way of tap-dancing around the other subject.

The baby.

“Not really,” Lexie explained. “I read about it in the newspapers I found on the Internet.” The images of those articles began to race through Lexie’s head. She’d been having a lot of those lately. Unfocused thoughts. Blurry images. Lots and lots of confusion.

She didn’t need the mental clutter now.

She had to focus.

“So, after I testified, we had sex….” Lexie almost had a duh moment and asked why again. But all she had to do was look at Garrett O’Malley and she knew the reason why. The lost memories hadn’t dulled her physical reaction to this man. “Then, it’s my guess something happened to cause me to leave?”

He didn’t answer right away. “I think Avery’s threats maybe got to you. You were scared.”

She suspected he was omitting something important. “Anything else that might have contributed?”

“We argued.” Just that. Tossed at her like a gauntlet. “Now, can we get to the baby part? If you have amnesia, how do you even know you had a child?”

Without loosening her grip on the gun, she caught her bulky shirt and lifted it so he could see the trio of pale, thready stretch marks on her stomach. “I think I remember going into labor three weeks and two days ago. That date is fixed in my head. I believe that’s because the whole time I was in labor, I kept thinking that it would be my baby’s birthday. But everything’s jumbled. So, I could be wrong.” A massive understatement, and it didn’t apply just to her thought process but to her entire life. “Mercy, I know how all of this must sound.”

“No. You don’t. I step out of my shower, go in search of a towel and instead get held at gunpoint by an amnesiac woman who thinks I might be the father of her child. But the problem is, other than a few stretch marks, she’s not even sure she had a baby.”

Oh, Lexie was sure of that. Hard to forget the god-awful pain that had made her feel as if she were being ripped in two. And then, after hours and hours, the pain had stopped. She’d heard that soft, kitten-like cry. Even now, with all the uncertainty, that cry still got to her. That was her baby’s cry, and no one could make her believe differently.

Grumbling something under his breath, Garrett walked closer, and closer, until he was practically looming over her. “Lexie, you need to put down that gun so I can take you to a doctor.”

She frowned. She hadn’t wanted the conversation to move in this direction. And she darn sure hadn’t wanted him that near to her, either. “You mean a shrink? You don’t believe the baby part.”

He made a sound that could have meant anything. Or nothing. “We only had sex once, and we used a condom.”

Yet more unexpected information. She was getting a lot of that tonight. “Then something went wrong.”

She tried to force her brain to remember exactly what. But it was useless. Forcing only seemed to make her memory cloudier.

Frustrated with herself she shook her head. His simultaneous movement registered just a second too late.

Garrett reached out.

Lightning fast.

And just like that, he snatched the gun from her hand.

He didn’t stop there. In a little maneuver that was practically a blur, he came at her. Lexie turned, to try to scramble away from him, but Garrett practically tackled her. The momentum sent them both crashing onto the overly soft bed. He twisted his body to take the majority of the impact. But then he turned. Trapping her. So that she couldn’t move.

Fighting through the initial panic, she took a moment to assess her situation. And it wasn’t a very good assessment. Garrett was on top of her, his body completely covering hers. She was no longer armed.

But he was.

With her gun.

Even if he hadn’t had a weapon in his right hand, his body would have certainly been classified as one. He was all sinew and muscle.

And he was all over her.

His right leg was wedged between hers. His chest squashed against her breasts. Their middles aligned perfectly, as if they were about to have sex.

That alignment didn’t bring back any memories.

However, it did remind her that he was a very virile man.

As if she needed anything to remind her of that.