“Nope,” he answered immediately.
She lifted the glass, and he downed the painkillers. Then she picked up the spoon and started feeding him.
For the first time since he’d arrived at this house, a trace of pleasure trickled through him. Guilty pleasure, because hecouldfeed himself. This was payback. If she was going to starve him for painkillers and bully him into eating, let her do the work.
She served him a bite of oatmeal flavored with maple syrup, milk, and cinnamon. He chewed and swallowed. “Is it possible I’m a resident of this island?”
“No. That is, you’re definitely not a year-round resident. You might be a vacationer here. I can check today with the owners who rent their properties at this time of year to see if you might be staying at one of their houses.” She fed him apple.
It crunched in his mouth, tart.
“I went through your clothing last night,” she said, “looking for ID. I found nothing. So I—”
“—stole my watch and ring?”
“—borrowedyour watch and ring,” she corrected, “in hopes that one of them had an inscription. They didn’t. But I was able to find information on that model of watch, and it sells for more than”—she lowered her voice as if afraid someone would overhear—“eight thousand dollars.”
She was clearly shocked by that number. He was not. He put his hands into a praying position. “God,” he said fervently, “let me be rich.”
She blinked at him. “I’m not a fan of anyone amassing great wealth. It’s corrosive. Eight thousand dollars for a watch! A watch!” She brought the water to his mouth while transitioning into a lecture on the importance of hydration. According to her, they hadn’t gotten enough fluid down him yesterday so today she was going to be counting every ounce.
Excellent. Something to look forward to.
“Are you married?” he asked, interrupting. He was going to be very surprised if she was, but it might be helpful to know if he was staying in the bed of a married woman. He didn’t want her husband to barge in yelling.
She sniffed. “No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No. Did you ask those questions because you’re trying to figure out how easy it will be to rob me?”
“Yes. That’s why.”
“I live here alone. But I’ve taken several self-defense courses online. So let that be a warning to you.”
“Have you ever been married?”
“You’re nosy.”
“I’d like to know more about my hostess. You’re worried I might rob you, but I’m worried you’re poisoning me with this oatmeal. You told me you didn’t drug and kidnap me, but I have no proof of that.” He definitely didn’t think she’d drugged and kidnapped him, yet the accusation was worthwhile because it caused her cheeks to turn pink.
“I am not in the habit of drugging and kidnapping men. I can’t prove that to you, but what choice do you have but to trust me? If you plan to survive, the food I’m providing is your only option.” She popped more apple into his mouth.
Once he’d finished chewing, he repeated his question. “Have you ever been married?”
“I’ve never been married. But you have as evidenced by your wedding band.”
Back when they’d settled on the name Jonah, he’d known that was wrong, not his actual name.
Was he married?
He couldn’t attach the idea of marriage to either a yes or a no . . . only to an uneasy shifting within him. Which didn’t make sense. If the name Jonah had felt wrong, the idea that he was married should feel right. The ring, his watch, his clothes, his face all gave him an inner sense of familiarity. So why not marriage?
Normal, healthy people could remember. But he could not.
A knife’s edge of panic pressed against his throat.
He blocked it. No. No to panic. He didn’t think he was someone who usually gave in to fear. Plus, from a practical standpoint, he couldn’t afford it right now. He was already in rough shape. Worry would slow his healing. “What do you do for a living? RN?” he asked jokingly.
