He rubbed his chin as he considered her from head to foot. “Hmmm.”

“What?”

“You are a curvaceous thing, aren’t you?”

She flushed. “Stop that!”

“Surely you’re used to me looking at you. And touching you, too.” Urged on by some imp of madness, he threaded his fingers through one of her curls where it lay against her shoulder, having escaped her bundled and bunched hair.

She immediately jerked away, and the soft silk tress slid from his fingertips. Unbound, he thought it would drape over her shoulders and down, curling possessively along the taut lines of her back. She was so small, without an ounce of plumpness to her except for the seductive curves of her breasts and hips.

He eyed her breasts for a moment. They were small, but well-rounded. They would just fit in his hand. His fingers curled at the thought, and he had an instant image of her naked and pliant beneath him—

She plopped her hands on her hips. “Look, Mr.—”

“Captain,” he corrected softly, forcing himself to meet her gaze.

Her cheeks stained bright red, her eyes flashing. “Whatever you are.”

“Don’t you mean whoever?”

“No,” she said flatly. “Whatever you are, you are being quite rude, staring at me as if I was a cow you were thinking of purchasing.”

“I was trying to remember you, of course. I keep thinking that there must be something”—he deliberately glanced back at her breasts—“that might trigger my memory.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can assure you that you’ve never seen that much of me.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Hm.” He pretended to ponder this a moment. “You’re certain we’ve never—”

“Never!”

He pursed his lips and regarded the wall opposite as if in deep thought.

She stomped her foot, the heel making a solid thump on the rug. “What are you doing now?”

“It’s just that…well, I can’t remember a lot of things, but I do know that…I know that…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t say.”

She huffed.

There was no other word for it—a sigh would have been softer, and a hiss would have been sharper. No, Chase decided, it was a definite huff. He lifted his brows. “I beg your pardon?”

“Tell me.”

“I would, but I don’t want to shock you, and I definitely don’t want your mother to think that I—”

“Mother has nothing to do with this, and I don’t shock easily.”

“I suppose…” He regarded her for a short time, then nodded. “Very well, then. I was thinking that it was strange that I should remember how a woman’s naked body would look, but not remember yours.”

She stiffened, outrage in every line. “That is because you’ve never seen my body.”

“That’s very strange. I hate to ask this, but ah…is there something wrong with you?”

Her mouth dropped open.

He placed a finger beneath her chin and closed it.

She snapped back to life. “What possibly could be wrong with me?”

“I don’t know; you’ll have to tell me.” He tapped his bandaged head. “I’m the one who can’t remember.”