I awoke in an unfamiliar room with an unfamiliar face staring down at me. For a moment I panicked, thinking I’d been kidnapped. The bed I was lying on was massive and adorned with silk sheets and a feather-soft comforter. A deep burgundy canopy surrounded me, and a middle-aged woman was at my side, picking up a bandage wrapper that was sitting on the side of the bed. I blinked and stared in confusion.
The woman gazed at me for a moment. “I’m Dr. Kim. How are you feeling?”
I raised my arm to touch my head, but the doctor caught my wrist. “It seems you hit your head, but you’ll be fine. Still, it’s best if you rest. The bleeding was from a superficial wound and didn’t require stitches. You were only out for five-to-ten minutes, give or take. Fainting is common and usually not serious, typically brought on by emotional stress. Emotions like fear, pain, anxiety, or shock can cause one’s blood pressure to drop to the point where they faint. Have you ever fainted before?”
Seriously, that was a lot of information to process when I’d just opened my eyeballs—and she talked really fast. Was it too soon to ask for coffee? Probably. Sigh. “Um, yes, one or two times—well, rarely, only when I’m overly stressed, though.”
“Okay, but if you feel your dizziness increase, or if you start feeling sick, or your heartbeat becomes irregular, you should call immediately. I also recommend contacting your doctor to get that checked out, just to be on the safe side.”
When did I hit my head? I wondered, still feeling groggy. I wanted to ask the question, but I knew this woman wouldn’t be able to give me an answer. She hadn’t been there after all.
“Where am I?” I asked instead.
The woman seemed sympathetic to my state. “You’re at the Regal Heights Hotel.” I gave her a questioning expression—I’d never heard of the place. “You were picked up and brought here to safety. I’m a guest, and was down in the lobby when you were rushed in. I was informed that you were attacked about a block from the Sandmeier Museum.”
I nodded. “Yes. I work there as a waitress. Late shift. I was just trying to get home.”
The woman stood from her crouched position on the bed, brushing the canopy out of the way, and rose to her feet. “Well, try to take it easy. It’s best if you stay in bed for a few more hours.” She patted my arm. “Get a good night’s rest.”
“Thank you.” I watched as the woman took her leave out the polished oak door and closed it behind her.
I sighed, glancing around the room.
Everything was immaculately kept, but the room was mostly without decoration. There was a large closet directly across from the foot of the bed, and out of the corner of my eye, I took note of a crimson rug positioned on the floor. I wanted definitive answers, other than I was “just in some hotel.” I wanted to know who the man was, the biker who’d saved me last night. Would I ever see him again?
I took my time, slowly peeling the covers off my legs. Someone had dressed me in dry clothes. I now wore a lacy, long silken nightgown. I guessed it was nice of whoever had gotten me out of my drenched uniform I’d been wearing earlier. I had my panties on but wasn’t wearing a bra—I’d taken that sucker off and stuffed it in my purse before I left work. The underwire popped out earlier in my shift and had been poking me in the side-boob all damn day. Oh, God. Someone had seen my breasts. Awesome. See? All-around crap day. Well, at least I didn’t die…
I gradually slid my bare feet to the edge of the bed and rose. My head twinged with a slight ache, forcing a subtle pounding to settle across my hairline and around my ears.
I pulled my hair away from my shoulders and accidentally brushed against the band-aid near my temple. Oww! Don’t touch it, dummy. I stepped to the door and opened it, peeking out into the hall.
“The persistent type, aren’t you?” The voice startled me—it was deep and familiar.
I hadn’t expected anyone. Least of all him. I recognized the voice as belonging to the biker from earlier that night. I took stock of the man standing in front of me: white shirt and black leather pants. His powerful arms were folded against his chest. He was tall and extraordinarily well-built. I tried not to lick my lips. I failed.
“First, you walk past a shady alley in the middle of a rainstorm in the dead of night, and then you get out of bed without assistance, even after I’m sure Dr. Kim told you to stay put.”
I stepped further into the hallway. “Who undressed me?”
I was able to see him a bit better now and noticed his eyes. They were the color of a soul-piercing brown, and surprisingly kind, despite his rough appearance. He had a hard stare, but his face was remarkably handsome. He had a dimple in his chin (one I wanted to touch—down, girl), a long and thin nose and gently arching eyebrows.
He unfolded his arms as he looked me up and down, his eyes lingering for a millisecond on my breasts. “Dr. Kim. Your modesty is still intact.” He gave me a sexy half-grin. “Are you feeling better? You took a hit.”
“The doctor said the same thing, but I don’t remember it.” Thank God it was the doctor who’d undressed me and not “Mr. Tall Dark and Yummy.”
“That’s no surprise. You fainted. I’d say you might have a little memory loss—you had a rough night. I mean, it’s possible, but I’m no doctor. Don’t worry, though, I informed the cops. It’s best if you make a formal statement once you’re feeling better. Other than that, you didn’t miss anything major.” He gave me a mischievous smile and winked. “You still remember who I am.”
“That’s the thing, though, I don’t. I remember you scaring off those thugs, but I don’t know anything about you.”
“They’re probably a lot more than thugs. I’m Kwon Jiyong.”
“Sandara Park.” I was relieved to finally be able to put a name with his face. “Is this … do you live here?”
He shrugged. “Sort of.”
It certainly hadn’t seemed like a place for some rough and tough biker to live. “Who owns it?”
At this, Jiyong dragged his gaze to mine and kept it there. “I do.”
I drew my brows together in a frown. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry, it’s just hard for me to pair this place with you.”
He chuckled. It was low and rich, and actually racked me with shivers. They weren’t from fear, but rather of interest. Jiyong had a strange sort of magnetic feeling to him that made me want to step a little closer.
“Weren’t you ever told you can’t judge a book by its cover?”
The question should have embarrassed me, but I felt too out of sync with reality to really care at that moment whether I was being awkward in conversation or not. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still just trying to get over the shock of what happened tonight.”
“Sand—”
I smiled. “Please, call me Dara.”
“Dara, we should get you back to bed.” He stepped to the door and rested his arm on my back to escort me inside. His touch sent a shiver of—Holy shit! Desire?—skating down my spine.
His manly scent was intoxicating.
Jiyong kicked the door shut behind us. Despite still feeling disoriented, I was grateful for his strength. I was craving the man before me, but his strong arms held me in place. As intimidating as he was, there was something very (and I mean very) breathtaking about him.
Yep, that’s definitely desire for a man I just met. I’m in trouble.
“I should’ve asked my boss to give me a ride home,” I mumbled to break the uncomfortable silence and to clear my naughty thoughts. “Then I wouldn’t be here burdening you.”
He shook his head. “You’re not. Tomorrow, you’ll be good as new. For now, I want you to take it easy. Is there anything else you need?” His eyes pierced mine.
Oh, shit. Was he leaning in?
“To be honest, I want to … I mean … thank you.” I sounded like a bumbling idiot.
I felt weak. Oh, those brown eyes. I could get lost in them. So gorgeous and so very deep. For some reason, his gaze sent a hot sensation throughout my body, directly to my center, and I felt a tingle between my legs. God, what the hell is wrong with me? I wondered and wanted to slap myself silly. I hardly knew this man. I’d never in my life slept with a man on the first night, not to mention after, well, being mugged. I fought hard to understand what I was feeling—and why. Okay, so he was freaking panty-melting hot. And he had that ruggedness about him that made a girl want to swoon… But that only happened in movies, right? Nope. I was a goner. I began to feel light-headed, but not from “physical” weakness.
He brought his arms around me, holding me close to him, and I basked in the strength of his embrace and hardness of his chest. All the pent-up feelings, the excitement and stress, the fear and confusion fell from me.
I lifted my head, and in response, Jiyong dipped his.
His presence was warm and inviting.
“You…” I began, feeling small and fragile under his stare.
“Pssst,” Jiyong whispered, tilting and lowering his head.
I closed my eyes.
His lips touched mine.
Our mouths melded together in the perfect dance. They were flawlessly formed for each other. Hell, the only thing I knew about this man was that he’d saved me from God only knew what, and that he owned this hotel. Part of that scared me a little, but then another part—a much larger part—was almost thrilled by the idea. Maybe it was my dark, inner love for danger. No, that wasn’t it. I wasn’t somebody who liked, let alone loved danger. If anything, I was usually a chicken where most men were concerned.
But why then was I wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and he reacted by pulling me closer to deepen the kiss. He held me tightly against him, staring at me. Before I knew it, he had us stumbling back to the bed. His eyes were fixed on me, like I was his prey, when he pushed me down to my back and onto the bed.