Tom had stopped dead in his tracks, forcing me to peer over his shoulder at whatever had caused his paralysis. It was a woman. That much had been obvious from his lustful tone. She was tall, or at least taller than I, and had the kind of hourglass figure that we're told is out of fashion, but still reduces grown men to tears.
"That's Seven," I say, my voice turning cool.
I'd never thought I could be more grateful for my divorce than I was on the day it was signed, but I was mistaken. If he hadn't already been suffering from concussion I would have brained him. The jackass might not have remembered his name, but leering at women appeared to be an ingrained trait.
"Were she and I," his hand wavered, "you know."
"No." I hadn't realised the thought of Tom and Seven together could cut so deeply. I suppose I wasn't as immune to her charms as I'd hoped---the sight of her perfect body having left me as breathless as Tom.
I tried to ignore Tom's saucer-eyed drooling. "Seven," my voice lowered, "you've heard about Tom's complaint?"
"The Doctor informed me." Her hand rose to Tom's head. "It is a remarkable case."
I interceded quickly to removed her hand and prevent Tom from doing or saying something that would embarrass or annoy me. I am always surprised by the warmth of Seven's hand. The softness of her skin.
I sighed. "It would be best if you didn't touch him. The Doc said that he's still vulnerable to a relapse if confronted by any sudden shock or over stimulation."
Tom looked as if he was willing to risk it.
"I understand." Her voice softened. "But perhaps he is not the one who finds me overly stimulating."
One look at Tom was enough to know just how stimulating he found the blonde. So I wasn't fooled. I knew she was flirting. Trying to make me admit what I had so far managed to deny. There was nothing more to say, so I pointed Tom towards a corner table and brushed past Seven.
Tom settled into a chair, his eyes lingering on Seven's luscious form. "Are you sure she and I weren't---"
His eyes reluctantly broke free of Seven's orbit and circled the room. Desperate to remember something. Anything. His amnesia weighing him down as distraction fled.
"I want to remember," he said gravely, "but there's nothing there."
I nod. "Give it time."
I should be comforting him. Helping him come to terms with his affliction. But all I can do is watch the woman across the room. The woman who is staring back at me.
I frown. "Excuse me a minute."
I don't wait for his answer, not really caring if he heard me or not. All I can think about is the hint of a smile forming on Seven's lips. Such kissable lips. Full and inviting, with a promise of warm delight. A promise I've tried my best to ignore.
"Seven." As she looked at me I knew things had changed. My heart pounded. My mouth dried. I fought the urge to retreat. "I want---"
She stood, her hand reaching behind my head to pull me near. "Is this okay?"
I gasp. "Yes."
We kiss. The slow melting of her mouth is more than I could have imagined. Her warmth engulfs me, pulling me in, holding me in a velvet embrace. Deeper. Her hands in my hair. Her body pressed against mine. A promise realised in every touch.
I back away, slowly. Acutely aware of the silence that surrounds us. Her arms stay with me, keeping me close.
I look back at Tom. His mouth agape and palms sweaty with vicarious desire.
"That's one memory I really don't want to lose."
I agree. "We should continue this somewhere private." It was only the first in what I hoped would be a lifetime's worth of memories.
Her eyes speak volumes, and it takes all my strength not to run from the room, pulling her with me.
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