Alien Embrace: Alien Embrace, #1

Chapter One

She could hear someone talking, but the words made no sense. The language sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite grasp what was being said. Trying to concentrate caused her head to ache worse. She let that go to get a sense of her body. She was tired, and weak, but didn't know why. Had she been ill, injured?

She felt a hand on her arm and struggled to open her eyes. Obviously, that was noticed. The voice that had been speaking to her grew louder, and seemed to be speaking directly at her, even if she didn't fully understand the words.

Finally able to open her eyes, she squinted into the light.

That's right, the woman in white smiled down at her. How do you feel?

A puzzled look was the only answer she could give. Those words, they almost meant something to her. That sounded like a question, probably about her. She managed to nod.

That was apparently the right response because the woman smiled.

Blah blah Doctor blah—

Doctor, she knew that word. Was she remembering language? Exhausted from the effort, she closed her eyes again.

She didn't know how long she slept this time, but it didn't feel long before she heard a new voice speaking to her, ...hear me?

More words she could recognize. Language was coming back. Was this her language? It had to be. She forced her eyes open, and saw the older man leaning over her. Doctor? She remembered that word, too.

She tried to speak, but was only able to make a croak, ...water?

Water, yes. She took a sip of the cool liquid through the straw he held to her lips. The soothing fluid ran down her parched throat. She never wanted to stop drinking. He pulled the straw away and she tried to follow but didn't have the strength.

—s'okay... relax.

Relax. She hadn't the ability to do much else. But words were coming to her now, faster and more familiar as she listened to the doctor and woman—a nurse—talk around and to her.

How... holding? The man, the doctor, held up two fingers.

Two. He smiled, so that must have been his question.

...name?

Name, he was asking what her name was. Her eyes widened as she realized that was a question she couldn’t answer. He must have seen the fear leap into her eyes.

Just relax. Everything will be okay. You've... coma. You're...—

My name? she interrupted.

You are Lori Sullivan... but she had quit listening. Lori, yes. She did remember that. Had he said coma? Why would she be in a coma? This must be a medical facility, yes the scent confirmed that. How had she gotten here? She looked back up at the older man.

How did I arrive? Yes, words were definitely coming back to her.

He didn't seem upset by the interruption. I don't know, but I'll try to find out for you. Please don't worry about your... I'm sure the memory loss is temporary. Let me... —

Lori quit listening again, letting him drone on, and then examine her. His hands were gentle, but her mind was elsewhere. What had happened to her? She was obviously in some sort of medical institution, but she wasn't in any pain, just... lost.

We're going to run a few more tests now that you're awake. Someone will come for you, and we'll do a... Okay?

She only nodded. Hopefully they knew what they were doing. She certainly didn't.

Chapter Two

Lori woke at the sound of the door opening. She opened her eyes a slit, not remembering when she had returned to this room. She must have drifted off during their tests and they returned her here, leaving her to sleep. Had she slept through the night? What day was it? She had been in a long tube, and there had been that awful sound. She didn’t remember after that.

This man was younger and something about him caused her pulse rate to increase. Did she know him? He did seem familiar. He was taller than the previous man, and a lot younger, with more hair—thick and dark and flopping over his forehead. His body was much more attractive as well, no paunch hanging over his belt like the other doctor. This man had muscles, broad shoulders, and a flat abdomen. At least her short-term memory seemed to be working if she could remember things like that.

He looked like the kind of man she would want to know, if that meant anything at this point. Yes, he was very attractive physically, but he also seemed kind and caring. Of course, that was nonsense. She had no idea what he was like. He hadn’t even spoken yet.

****

Mark Greene stopped short of the bed, not wanting to wake the woman. Dr. Jacobi had asked him for a consult on an amnesia patient. There had probably been no need to come in today, but he didn't have plans until this evening. Dr. Jacobi had said ‘young lady’, which didn't mean a lot. That could be anyone from twelve to forty.

What the man hadn't said was beautiful woman. She was apparently tall, probably five eight, judging from where her feet tented the sheets, and slim. Her hands were graceful with long, slender fingers. His eyes moved up her body. The well-washed hospital gown molded to her full breasts, and left her graceful throat and neck bare except where her hair fell.

Her hair was long and pulled back in a low ponytail. The color was brunette, but not merely brown. Dozens of shades of brown wove through it with some strands of red and even gold blended in. His eyes continued to move up, taking in her full and luscious lips. She was wearing no makeup, but her lashes lay long and dark on her cheeks. He startled when her eyes opened, then stepped forward involuntarily. Her eyes were teal—not blue, not green, but a combination of both with a hint of gold at the edge of the iris. He'd never seen eyes like hers.

He forced control on himself but was stunned at the depth of his interest in this woman. He had never seen anyone like her, but he was an adult and a professional. Where was this, hell, this desire, coming from? Still, he could not deny his attraction to her. He could do a quick consult, and then have her assigned to another psychiatrist, if treatment was indicated. That would be the correct way to handle this.

Ms. Sullivan?

She met his eyes, and he was struck again by her pull. Yes?

I'm Dr. Marcus Greene. Dr. Jacobi asked me to stop in and speak with you.

Have you found out what's wrong with my memory?

He smiled. She was already alert and thinking. Probably nothing that a little time won't fix. I saw that you may have been unconscious for several days. It's not surprising that you have some memory loss.

She regarded him as though assessing his trustworthiness. Do you know why I was unconscious all that time?

He took a seat beside the bed in an uncomfortable metal chair with plastic cushions. Her eyes followed him. The short answer is no. Tests are being run, but you have no physical trauma, no head injury. They are testing for chemicals or drugs that might have caused such a reaction.

Drugs? Do you—

There are all kinds of drugs. He reassured her quickly. She was amazingly alert. Jacobi must have missed something. Had she been in a true coma? I'm not accusing you of anything. You might be on a medication that reacted badly due to an allergy, or in combination with something else. Let the tests come back before you jump to any conclusions. Dr. Jacobi determined that you were healthy. That would be unusual if you were taking street drugs. You seem to be back with us already.

She seemed to relax a little at that and nodded.

I'm going to guess that you're not from here originally.

Why? Her brow furrowed at that.

Your accent. I can't place it, but I know you’re not originally from New York. Is English your first language?

That question didn't make sense for a moment. Then it dawned on her, he thought she was from another country or something, and had learned English in school or as an adult.

She shook her head slowly. I don't remember anything like that. She didn't seem to remember any other language, though she hadn’t known this one when she woke.

Don't spend a lot of time worrying about what you can’t remember. The best thing for you to do right now is to relax, and let your memories return as they will. Don't try to force anything.

She nodded but didn't look happy about the situation. Do you know when I'll be released?

Dr. Jacobi hasn't said anything to me about that yet. But you seem to be doing well, so you probably won’t have to wait very long. He saw the fear leap into her eyes and found that he had taken hold of her hand. I'll be working with you. You aren't going to be abandoned.

Those words seemed to soothe her, and he realized what he had said. He knew he needed to hand her off to someone else, but even the thought gave him pause. And now he had said he would work with her. He had seen her reaction to that—trust and a little relief. Okay, he would be her doctor for now. Surely he was professional enough to handle the situation. He was in a relationship after all.

He realized she was watching him, had noted his conflict. Whoever this Lori Sullivan was, she seemed perceptive. He wanted to find out more about her—a lot more.

Chapter Three

Mark was going to be late, which meant that Cynthia would be irritated, even though she was the one that had been busy this afternoon. She had gotten more possessive lately, and if he were honest with himself, he'd probably given her reason. They'd been seeing each other exclusively nearly seven months now.

Cynthia was a pretty woman, only five foot three, but she wore those killer heels all the time, so she usually stood around five foot six. She was blonde, though he did wonder occasionally what color her hair really was. She was too meticulous with her care to let him see roots, and she had big moist blue eyes, like that cat in Shrek. She'd also had a breast enhancement, though they had never discussed that fact. He was a physician, a full MD, though he'd chosen psychiatry as his specialty. If she didn't want to discuss any previous surgery, that was her business, right? They weren't living together but getting her into his bed hadn't been that difficult.

Of course, lately he'd gotten the impression that she was expecting some sort of commitment. She was fun to be with most of the time. They had some interests in common and were learning one another. He couldn't say, even to himself, why he was resistant. He was certainly of an age to think about settling down.

He realized he was seeing Lori's teal eyes in his mind, and shook his head slightly trying to dislodge that image. Unfortunately, the vision of her breasts in the thin hospital gown replaced her eyes in his thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him?

He tapped on Cynthia's door. So far, he'd managed to avoid taking her key, and she flung the door open. Where have you been?

Oh, this was going to be a fun night. Sorry, I got a new patient today and—

"On a Sunday? Never mind, we need to go now. Otherwise, we'll lose our reservation."

Where are we going? She was already gathering up her bag and coat. She was wearing a very short, tight black skirt. She really needed to lose a couple of pounds if she was going to wear that. He wisely kept his mouth firmly closed. The top was cut exceedingly low, also black and covered in rhinestones. For just a dinner?

"Where are we going?" he repeated as he trailed her to the elevator.

There's a new place over on Ninety-second that I keep hearing about. I had a hell of a time getting this reservation.

He kept quiet at that, sighing inwardly. So much for a relaxing evening, with the two of them talking and unwinding. Cynthia Broome would never go for that. In her defense, she sold high-end real estate, and needed to make connections. But occasionally it would be nice not to be on display.

The vision of Lori floated back into his head. He resolutely shoved thoughts of her aside.

They made their reservations, barely, and it seemed to Mark that the maitre'd actually sneered at them. Since he didn't care, he ignored that as well, and hoped Cynthia hadn't noticed.

They were seated at a poor table, too close to the back, and near the kitchen. He could see she was annoyed again. Deciding not to mention any of that, he ordered a bottle of her favorite wine and looked over the menu. Scallops with melon balls, pureed yams over chard, red pepper grits, braised kale with golden raisin jam and roasted garlic—who came up with this stuff? If he ordered a cheeseburger, she'd kill him. After asking her opinion, after all, she was the one that had heard of this place, not him. He ordered the rib eye. She got the striped sea bass over blueberry sauce.

A couple of people stopped by their table and spoke. One was a former client, so that was making her feel better. Hell, he was the one with his back to the room, so that she could see and be seen. This place was not on his list for visiting again, but she was mellowing.

How was your day? he was able to ask after the latest couple had moved on.

I had two showings. You remember that condo I was telling you about? It's fabulous! And I know the place won't be on the market for long. I'm pretty sure the second couple will make an offer... she continued on as he listened with one ear.

Okay, he felt bad about that. She could be good company, and they had a pretty good sex life, but as hard as it was to say, he couldn't see himself with her long term. That wasn't fair to her. He knew she'd put a lot into the relationship. He tried not to think that they were together because he looked good on her arm.

Once again, he noticed she didn't bother to ask about his day. She hadn't in some time. That was probably because his work was a downer in her opinion. The thought had never occurred to her that he would see a patient on a Sunday. Once she'd realized he didn't have celebrity clients, her interest had waned rapidly. Had she honestly thought he was going to talk to her about them if he had? Damn, he was in a great mood tonight.

Another couple approached the table. Cynthia and the woman air kissed. He rose to be introduced and shake hands. This woman left nothing to chance in checking him out. No doubt she knew his inseam to the quarter inch. Cynthia noticed, too, and her eyes got that hard look in them. He'd done nothing, so he kept quiet. When the couple left the table, he tried to steer the conversation back to that condo she'd been going on about, but that didn't work.

You certainly got an eye full there, she said, her voice low and brittle.

"No, actually I got eyed, like a piece of meat. He didn't usually disagree with her or point out that kind of thing, and she blinked. I hope she won't be around much. Personally, I didn't like her."

For a wonder, Cynthia's face cleared, and she smiled. I don't either. I definitely won't put her on the Christmas card list.

He chuckled and took a sip of the wine. He hadn't really thought about Cynthia being jealous. He had given her no reason, but sometimes that wasn't enough. Unbidden, the sight of Lori, alone and frightened arose again. He took another sip of wine to disperse the vision and concentrated on Cynthia's conversation.

After a mediocre meal at truly outrageous prices, they rose. Let's stop in for a minute across the street, Cynthia said smoothly as he helped her with her coat.

Across the street? What's over there?

It's a new club. Chloe told me about the place.

The light bulb clicked on in his head. Of course, her outfit, the club was the real reason they had come down here. Shit! She would want to be out until the place closed. That was two a.m. Even if he stayed over at her place, it would be at least three before they got to bed; and he wanted to be at the hospital before his office hours.

Cynthia, I can't tonight. I wish you'd mentioned the club earlier. I have to be at the hospital early tomorrow.

Oh Mark, just for a little while? You could stay over, she spoke cajolingly, but he wasn't moved.

It's never for a little while in those places. I'm really sorry, maybe we could check it out next weekend, but—

Couldn't someone else see your patient? You have those partners, but they never seem to be able to help you out when you need some time.

That wasn't strictly true. He hadn't asked them, not that he would ever admit that. He enjoyed his job. He felt good about what he was able to accomplish with his patients and took an almost fatherly pride in their achievements.

They're as busy as I am. Do you want me to start taking some of their patients when they want to go clubbing?

Her eyes narrowed,