Raised in the southern U.S., his family was from Greece. I didn’t believe him until I searched for blond Greek men online. Apparently, there was an abundance of blond hair in Greece. Who knew?
His speech was void of accent, at least to my ears so used to hearing a Tennessee twang. Until he told me he was born and raised in Knoxville, I would’ve never guessed he was Southern.
“All right.” I sighed. “Thank you for believing my story and for once again being what I need.” I leaned against his thick arm and put my head on his shoulder. “Take me to the ER and waste most of our night. Let them pronounce me in perfect health. Then will you at least take me home to pack a bag and grab some of my guns?”
“Riley, I’ve got plenty of guns. You know that.” He chuckled and gave my hand a squeeze.
I rolled my eyes and got to my feet, “Yes, but they’re notmyguns.”
He slung an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, let’s go get you checked out.”
We rode to the local university hospital in his massive Ford truck. There was something about men and trucks in the South, and Elias wasn't immune to the pull of a super-duty. I didn’t mind his truck obsession because it was a smooth ride. By the time we reached the emergency room door, I was lulled to the brink of sleep.
“Eli, I want to sleep. Take me home,” I groaned as he opened my passenger door.
“Not a chance.”
I glared at him until he reached across and unbuckled my seat belt. His chest brushed against mine, and I sucked in my stomach as I tried to stamp out the spark of arousal.
Don’t stress about it. It's been an insane day and your hormones have been all over the place. It was an instinctual reaction. It doesn’t mean you’re disloyal to Michael.
Elias stared at me with one eyebrow cocked as I gave myself a mental pep talk. “Can we go in now?”
I gave him an exaggerated huff. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter 2
Our emergency room visit passed without much drama, all things considered. They drew my blood and took my vitals. The longest wait was after the CT scan—the results took an hour. It was one of those hours that you think it's been at least a half hour, but only three minutes have passed. The enormity of my day overwhelmed me, and I spent the hour dozing as tears leaked from my eyes. Elias sat beside my bed with one hand on my ankle. The simple touch of another human was comforting, but I battled a guilt monster for wanting it.
The doctor pronounced me stressed and sent us home. “I told you so.” Chuckling, I climbed into the truck.
Elias rolled his eyes and pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward my house to get my overnight bag and guns. “About your visitor earlier—do you think there’s any chance he was telling the truth?”
I watched the passing landscape as we sped home, battling with myself, trying to decide if Anthony could have any relevant information. “I don’t know. I’m going to call the local FBI office in the morning and see if they’ve ever heard of him or his alias. Although, I highly doubt they’ll have any idea who he really is.” He was probably some freak that heard about my case on some documentary. It had been featured on a few websites and occasionally brought out the crazies.
Elias peeked at me from the corner of his eye. “In the morning.” Eli’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
His words rubbed me the wrong way. Surely the FBI would at least want to know it happened. “I suppose you’re right, but what else can I do? I feel even more lost than I did two days ago.” I rubbed my eyes. “How am I going to figure out who this guy is and what his true motives are?”
The brakes on the fancy truck squeaked as we pulled into my driveway and parked. He spent some time staring out the driver’s window, contemplating my situation while I took the opportunity to study his profile. My newfound interest in him flitted around my stomach, both exciting and confusing me. Was it okay to be attracted to someone when on the verge of possibly finding my long-lost husband? What kind of person did that make me?
A horrible person, Riley. You are a horrible, horrible person. You’re going to hell wearing gasoline-soaked panties.Apparently, my libido disagreed with that assessment because I felt a tingle of potent desire. My head smacked against the headrest, and I groaned in frustration.
Elias laughed and grabbed my knee, not helping my tingles in the slightest. "Riley, come on. Let's get your bag, and I'll settle you in the guest room at my place. You'll be safe, and you can rest."
Shoving the truck door open, the dull throb of a headache began again. It was becoming an annoyance. "Eli, my head is starting to hurt again. Maybe there's some allergen in the air around this place that’s causing me to have a headache as a reaction." I sniffed the air, my nose pointed up as I turned in a circle. "Smell anything? I don't."
Eli stopped on the porch and watched me twirl in a circle behind him. "Give me your keys, you goof. I'll check the place out before you come in."
He reached into his boot and withdrew a small pistol. "Here, stand inside the door, stay alert, and use this.” He handed me the gun gingerly, as if afraid I didn’t know what to do with it. “Just don't shoot me!" He slipped into the quiet house.
Unwilling to wait in the doorway, I crept in behind him. He was already deep inside, and I didn’t like not knowing where he was. "Eli!" I shout-whispered. He appeared at my elbow like a ninja.
He didn't bother whispering. "Riley. Sometimes you’re a real rebel, but you’re awful at sneaking." He clapped me on the shoulder before walking soundlessly up the dark staircase.
I waited patiently at the bottom of the stairs like a good little rebel. He eventually bounded down the stairs, no longer trying to be quiet. "What the hell took so long, Eli? Did you make friends with my shower curtain or something?"
Elias scrutinized me.
