“It can’t happen,” she whispered. “I wish it could but it can’t.”

“Why not? I want you, you want me, and no one is here to stop us.”

“They’d figure it out.” She straightened in her chair, her spine stiff. “I think we should call it a day, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t want to leave.”

Beautiful eyes pleaded with him. “You need to go. We’ll continue this tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Anger warred with frustration. He spun and marched out of her office. The next day they told him she no longer worked there and wasn’t coming back. He never saw her again.

He was confused because she stepped closer to him. How could she have gone when he was looking right at her? What is real? What is memory? A growl tore from him as he clasped the bars that blocked his path to Joy.

“Easy,” Joy crooned. Moon was acting irrational, his expressions changing as she regarded him. “I’m right here. You need to calm down. Relax.”

The Species behind the bars wasn’t the 466 she’d known. He’d been moody, a loner, but slowly making progress at letting her get close to him. She’d fallen in love with 466. Then the version of Moon she’d seen on Harley’s video had been charming, outgoing, and he enjoyed sports. Of course, his motive for the latter may have been that he’d wanted to play with the females. That was a strong possibility and it made her little green-eyed monster stir.

The male she faced was neither of those versions though. He was dangerous and unstable. Don’t forget that, she advised herself. “Do you know me?”

“You left me.”

The words startled her but she was grateful to hear them, despite the way he snarled the accusation. He remembered the past and obviously wasn’t happy with her. It didn’t matter. He was talking and knew who she was.

“I had no choice.”

One hand snaked through the bars, reaching for her. “Come here.”

Should she move close enough for him to touch or not? Anger radiated from him but she wasn’t a stranger to him any longer. Joy took another step closer.

“Don’t hurt me.”

“Come,” he harshly demanded.

She stepped within his reach. His hand gently gripped her upper arm, steering her closer with a light tug. She pressed against the bars, peering up at him.

“Why am I here?” He glanced at the bars.

Hope flared that the drugs were wearing off. “You’ve been sick.”

Confusion clouded his features. “I don’t catch colds.”

“You were on guard duty and you were shot with a dart that was filled with an unknown drug.”

“Guard duty? We have guards. Why would I do their job?”

Alarm rattled her. “Where do you think we are?”

“The motel.”

Shit! He is in the past, not the present. She tried not to panic. “Think hard. Do you remember leaving the motel at all? Going to Homeland?” She hoped the hints would trigger memories.

“What is that?”

Oh God. Huge chunks of his memory are gone. Calm down and hide how freaked out you are, she ordered herself. His memory hadn’t returned. He seemed able to remember her and the time in the desert, at least. That was improvement.

“Let me out.” He looked at the bars again. “Unlock the door.”

“I can’t. I don’t have the key.”

He growled and his hold on her tightened but not enough to hurt. “Why did you do this to me?”

“I didn’t.”

“You ordered me caged?” Anger narrowed his eyes and he softly growled. “I hate being locked up.”

“I didn’t order it.”

“The other doctor you hate did this to me?”

“I didn’t hate her. I just thought she was kind of a snob.”

“You left and I became hers.” He pressed his face against the bars. “I don’t like her and this is payback for my refusal to speak to her, isn’t it?”

“No.” She carefully chose her words, not wanting to send him into shock or cause him emotional trauma by hinting that he’d lost so much time in his mind. “It wasn’t her choice either. You were dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t hurt any of the female guards.”

He was definitely in the past. “I know that. But you haven’t been yourself. What is the last thing you remember?”

“You left me.”

“How long has it been since I left?” She wanted to pinpoint his time frame and then she could keep track of his progression.

His mouth twisted into a grim frown and he shook his head. “I don’t know. A while.” His other hand slipped through the bars and cupped her face. His fingertips created a welcome rasp along her cheekbone where he caressed her. “Why can’t I answer that?”

“You’ve been sick,” she reminded him. “Confused. It’s okay. You’re getting better.” She slid her hand through the bars to rest her palm over his warm, firm chest to stroke him. “You’re going to be okay though. That’s why I’m here. I’m not leaving you again, 466. I promise.” She felt it was safer to use his number rather than his name since that was what he was familiar with in his current state.

His hand released her to slip his arm around her waist and urge her closer. He inhaled, closing his eyes.

“You smell different.”