Her smile fell. Then it reappeared, and as lovely as her smile was, it made him uneasy. “I confess I don’t recall anything about being an agent. But I must have good instincts if I’m as good as you say, and do you know what my instincts are telling me, Simon?”
“I’d prefer not knowing—”
“I think you rather liked kissing me,” she said, ignoring him. “Maybe even as much as I liked kissing you. Because whatever I might have felt for you before, I don’t feel that way now. I don’t even believe I ever felt that way. I must have been attracted to you—perhaps I saw that as a liability and tried to keep my distance. I don’t know what I thought or why I behaved so badly. But I can’t deny the way I feel about you now.”
Simon’s mouth felt dry, and he swallowed. “And how do you feel?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
“I like you.”
“I like you too.” And he did. He’d never particularly cared for her abrasive personality, but that hadn’t stopped him from lusting after her. But her personality seemed to have changed with that blow to the head. He liked this new Marjorie quite a lot. God, he hoped she wouldn’t return completely to her old self when her memory returned. “And I did enjoy kissing you.” Holy hell, but he’d wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. “But that isn’t why we’re here.” Was he telling her or himself? “We’re expected to keep everything above board here and complete our mission.”
She nodded, and he was disappointed she agreed so readily. He wouldn’t have minded being persuaded to break the rules.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” she said. She didn’t add finally, but he heard the echo of the word. “Everything makes more sense now. Of course, I’m even more terrified I won’t be able to remember who I am and the information I hold, but there’s nothing for that, I suppose. Clearly, this mission is crucial to the war effort else someone wouldn’t have attempted to kill me and ensure the smugglers can never reach the rendezvous.”
“That’s the other reason I’m sleeping on the couch,” he said. He’d expected her to try and sneak out again, but that hadn’t been his most pressing concern. “By now whoever tried to kill you is probably aware the attempt was unsuccessful. I expect they’ll try again, and since they can’t be sure I don’t also know the rendezvous, they may try to kill both of us.”
She rose to her feet. “You think someone will come here tonight and try to kill us?”
“It’s a possibility. I won’t let it happen. I have my pistol right there.” He indicated a cloth in which he’d wrapped the pistol, so she wouldn’t see it. “If anyone tries to get in, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”
Her gaze lingered on the cloth then slid to the front door and then the back. He knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. “I’ve barred the doors and locked the windows. I plan to keep watch all night. You can go to bed. You’ll be safe.”
“You are always trying to send me to bed,” she said. “Not this time. Even if I try to sleep, I won’t be able to. I rather think there would be something wrong with me if I could sleep while knowing someone might be lurking outside, waiting for the chance to murder me. We’ll keep watch in shifts.”
If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the old Marjorie was back again. She gave the order as though it was second nature.
“You have a head injury. You should rest.”
“I can rest on the couch as well as in my bed chamber. Besides, you’ve done nothing but take care of me. It’s time you rested.”
As exhausted as he was, he could not allow her to keep watch on her own. She was injured and not herself. Probably best not to argue with her, though. A compromise? “Why don’t we work together? One of us can sleep on the couch while the other keeps watch in the chair. After two hours, we switch.”
“Very well. The person keeping watch wakes the other immediately if anything suspicious occurs.”
“Agreed. The only matter to settle is who keeps watch first. I’ll take the first watch and wake you about half past two.” Except if the night was uneventful and she was sleeping, he wouldn’t wake her. She needed her sleep.
“I don’t think so. You’ve already been on watch. I’ll take the first one and you rest.”
“I’d rather—”
“If you don’t trust me then just lie on the couch with one eye open. But you’d be smarter to sleep so you are fresh for your shift.”
“Fine.” He knew he was beaten and would rather not waste more time arguing about the matter. He stretched out on the couch, his feet dangling over the end, and pulled the crocheted blanket draped over the back to cover him. She went to a chair to the right of his head and sat.
“Should I close the shutter on the lamp?” she asked.
“No. If they think we’re awake, they may not attempt to break in.”
“But don’t we want to catch them?”
Simon did want to catch whoever hit Marjorie on the back of the head and left her for dead, but not while she was injured and more of a liability than an asset. “When your memory comes back, we’ll lay a trap for your attacker. Until then, we should avoid confrontation.”
“I hate to agree, but I do. I can’t remember the first thing about firing a pistol. I couldn’t even tell you if I’ve ever held one. I don’t think I’d be much help if we were attacked.”
“Wake me at half two,” he said, and closed his eyes, though he had no intention of sleeping.
With only the sound of the ticking clock on the bookshelf, Simon allowed his thoughts to drift. Of course, they went right back to how he’d felt holding Marjorie in his arms. How her hands on him had aroused him. How her lips had been sweeter than he’d dreamed. She’d probably hate him even more once her memory returned. She’d blame him for what passed between them, and he couldn’t even argue that she’d been the one who kissed him, the one that crawled into his lap. She’d say she hadn’t been herself, and that was true. That was why he’d stopped her, even when every fiber of his being had told him to take her to bed. He wanted Marjorie, not only her body or half her mind. He wanted all of her, and that included her flaws.
