CHAPTER 5: What She Doesn't Remember

*Three months earlier - Griffin's POV*

Griffin knew something was wrong the moment he saw her stumble.

He'd been leaving the fundraiser early, already done with the fake smiles and shallow conversations. Sterling had called twenty minutes ago, drunk and demanding a ride home from some bar across town. Typical. Their father was at this event somewhere, schmoozing with investors, and Sterling was off destroying his reputation one bottle at a time.

But then Griffin saw the woman in the ill-fitting dress grab a table for support. Watched her fumble with her purse. Saw the glassy, unfocused look in her eyes.

He'd seen that look before. On his college roommate's girlfriend after someone slipped something in her drink at a frat party. The same vacant confusion. The same loss of coordination.

She was heading for the elevators alone.

Griffin changed direction.

"Whoa, easy." He caught her elbow as she bent to pick up her dropped purse and nearly face-planted. "Are you alright?"

Green eyes looked up at him. Beautiful eyes, even glazed with whatever drug was hitting her system. Auburn hair falling loose from pins. A sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

"I don't... something's wrong." Her words slurred together. "I need to get to my room."

Fear spiked through him. She was alone. Vulnerable. And someone had done this to her on purpose.

"Did someone give you a drink?" He scanned the hallway. Looking for threats. For whoever had targeted her.

"I'm not drunk."

But she was barely standing. Griffin's jaw clenched. Not drunk. Drugged.

"What's your room number?"

She blinked at him. Tried to answer. Couldn't.

Shit.

"Okay. It's okay." He kept his voice calm even though rage was building in his chest. "I'm going to help you. You're safe."

He got her into the elevator. She swayed dangerously and he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her upright. She was small against him. Fragile. Trusting him completely even though she didn't know him at all.

His room was on the fifteenth floor. He'd gotten it for the night because driving home after these events was a pain. Now he was grateful for it.

"Your hand," she mumbled, staring at the scar across his knuckles. "You're bleeding."

"Old injury. Don't worry about me."

He got her to his room. Eased her onto the bed. She looked so lost sitting there, confusion and fear fighting in her expression.

"This isn't..." Panic crept into her voice.

"I know. I'm just getting you somewhere safe while I call someone for you." He found her phone in her purse. It was unlocked, thankfully. He scrolled through her contacts, looking for anyone labeled friend or emergency.

He found Simone. Called. No answer.

Tried again. Still nothing.

"Your friend isn't answering. I'm going to call the front desk. Get you some help."

"Don't leave." The desperation in those two words hit him in the chest.

Griffin crouched in front of her. Looked into those terrified green eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

He called the front desk. Asked for hotel security to check the ballroom for a silver-haired man in his fifties who might have drugged a guest. Asked for a doctor to be sent up. Gave them the room number.

Then he sat beside her on the bed because she looked like she might fall over if he didn't.

"What's your name?" Her head lolled against his shoulder.

"Griffin."

"Thank you for... for helping me."

Something twisted in his chest. She was thanking him for basic human decency. For not leaving her alone and vulnerable. The bar was so low it was underground.

"Of course. Just rest. I've got you."

The hotel doctor arrived fifteen minutes later. Confirmed what Griffin already knew. Rohypnol, probably. Maybe GHB. Something designed to make her compliant. Helpless.

"She needs to file a police report," the doctor said.

"Tomorrow," Griffin said. "When she's conscious enough to remember her own name."

The doctor left instructions. Keep her hydrated. Don't let her sleep on her back. Monitor her breathing. Call if anything changed.

Griffin sat in the chair by the window and watched her sleep. His jacket was draped over her shoulders because the air conditioning was too cold. Her shoes were lined up neatly by the bed.

He should leave. Call her friend again. Hand this situation off to someone else.

But he'd promised he wouldn't leave. And something about her made him want to keep that promise.

Around two AM, she stirred. Reached out blindly.

"Don't leave me alone."

The words were barely a whisper. But they broke something in him.

Griffin moved to the bed. Sat beside her. "I'm here."

Her hand found his. Held on like he was the only solid thing in a spinning world. And maybe he was.

"I feel safe with you," she murmured.

Those words. God, those words.

She pulled him closer. Half-conscious. Not really aware of what she was doing. Her head found his chest. Her fingers curled in his shirt.

Griffin knew he should pull away. She was drugged. Vulnerable. This was wrong on every level.

But she was shaking. And he'd promised.

So he stayed.

Held her while she cried softly into his shirt. Stroked her hair when the trembling got worse. Whispered that she was safe, over and over, until she believed it.

Somewhere in those dark hours, something shifted.

Her lips found his jaw. Soft. Seeking. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking." His voice was rough.

"I know I don't want to be alone." She looked up at him. Those green eyes clearer now but still glazed. "I know I feel safe with you. I know... I know I want this."

"You're not in your right mind."

"Maybe." Her hand touched his face. "But I still want it."

Griffin's restraint cracked. He told himself he was just comforting her. Just making sure she felt safe. But when her mouth met his, he kissed her back.

It was gentle. Careful. He kept waiting for her to pull away. To realize this was a mistake.

She didn't.

What happened after blurred together. Soft touches. Whispered assurances. Her fingers digging into his shoulders. The taste of her skin. The sound of her breathing.

He was gentle. So careful. Terrified of hurting her. Of taking advantage even though she said yes, even though she pulled him closer, even though every touch felt like coming home.

After, she fell asleep in his arms. Griffin lay there in the dark, guilt eating him alive.

She'd been drugged. Vulnerable. And he'd...

He was no better than the man who'd put something in her drink.

The sun was rising when he finally pulled away. She didn't wake. Just curled into the pillow where he'd been, still wearing his jacket.

Griffin found hotel stationery. Wrote a note because disappearing without explanation felt worse than staying.

*You were in danger. I made sure you were safe. I hope you're okay. - G*

Inadequate. Pathetic. But what else could he say? Sorry I took advantage of you while you were drugged? Sorry I couldn't keep my hands to myself?

He looked at her one more time. Auburn hair spread across white pillows. The jade bracelet on her wrist catching the morning light. Freckles scattered across her cheekbones.

Beautiful.

And he didn't even know her name.

Griffin grabbed his things and left before he could change his mind. Before he could wake her up and beg for forgiveness he didn't deserve.

In the elevator, he pulled out his phone. Opened the camera roll. He'd taken one photo last night, her wallpaper had her name.

Nora Sutherland.

He'd find her. Somehow. Apologize. Make sure she was really okay. Make sure the bastard who drugged her faced consequences.

He'd find her.

"I'll find you," he whispered to the empty elevator.

For three months, he looked. Searched gallery events. Art authentication firms. Called in favors. But Nora Sutherland had vanished like smoke.

Until today.

Until she walked into his father's conference room to sign a contract marrying his brother.

Griffin stood in the doorway, staring at her. Those green eyes. That auburn hair. The jade bracelet on her wrist.

The woman he'd searched for. The woman he'd held while she cried. The woman he had kissed and touched inappropriately.

Sitting there about to marry Sterling.

About to become his brother's wife.

And she didn't even recognize him.