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the light he could finally get a good look at her. She had a heart-shaped face with startling sapphire-blue eyes. Her nearly black hair hung to her shoulders in waves. His attention went to her mouth, full and inviting, especially the pouty bottom lip, giving him ideas he had no business thinking about right now. If ever.
She suddenly looked in his direction. He swallowed the dryness in his throat and managed to speak. “Mrs. Donnelly. Remember me, Deputy Randell?” He walked in, trying to exhibit authority as the nurse moved out of the way.
She tilted her head slightly. “Yes, Deputy, I remember you. You helped me. Thank you.”
He shrugged. “It’s my job. I believe this is yours.” He handed her the oversize purse.
She hugged the bag close to her like a shield. “Oh, thank you.”
Brandon found it hard not to stare at her. She was beautiful—even with her jaw bruised and bandaged. The only other imperfection on her skin was a faint scar along her eyebrow.
He finally managed to tear his gaze away and turned to the young doctor. “How is she?”
“She’s doing fine, considering the slight concussion. She has some bumps and bruises, but I expect a full recovery.”
“Then you don’t mind if I ask her some questions?”
“Why don’t you ask me if I mind?”
Nora Donnelly’s soft, sultry voice lured his attention back to her. “I apologize, Mrs. Donnelly. Would you mind answering a few questions?”
When Dr. Jenson and Gloria tossed a wave as they left the room, Nora wanted to call them back. She didn’t want to talk or think about the attack. It was her next move that was important. And what could possibly keep her and Zach safe.
She glanced up at the serious-looking deputy. He wasn’t going to leave until he got answers.
“I’m not sure what I can tell you, Deputy.”
“There are just a few questions.” His gaze met hers. “Did you know your attacker?”
She hesitated, and knew he saw it right away. “No.” It wasn’t exactly a lie since she hadn’t recognized him.
“Can you describe the man?”
“He was big, really big.” She examined the deputy closely. No way she couldn’t notice his dark good looks. Piercing brown eyes, coal-black hair and square jaw. “Much burlier than you.” She shivered, recalling his body pressed against her.
“White, Hispanic, African-American?”
“White.”
“Did he say anything?”
She flinched.
“Mrs. Donnelly.” He stepped closer to the bed. “I know this is difficult but anything he said could be a possible clue to finding him.”
Nora shut her eyes. She knew she couldn’t lie—not about this. “He said, ‘You thought you could get away with it.’”
She opened her eyes to find him watching her.
“You’re widowed, correct?” the deputy asked.
She tensed, but managed to nod. “Two years.”
He wrote in the notepad. “Could I get a list of your most recent male friends?”
“I can’t give you one.” When he started to press the issue, she stopped him. “There hasn’t been anyone in my life since my husband. Only my son.”
Brandon found that hard to believe. “Surely you’ve had men ask you out. Maybe someone who didn’t want to take no for an answer? A coworker?”
She sat up straighter. “I’m a professional, Deputy. I don’t date anyone I work with. I repeat, I don’t date at all. Any free time I have I spend with my son.”
Was she covering for some guy? “Who’s Zach?”
She blinked in surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“You said his name when I found you.”
“He’s my son.”
He nodded, checking him off the list. “What about someone who was once a patient here?”
Nora shrugged. “I think I’d remember a man that large.” She took a breath. “Now, if you’re finished with the questions, I’d like to go home.”
Brandon hadn’t meant to upset her. “Of course. I’ll wait for you outside.”
She paused. “I thought you were finished with the questions.”
“I am for now. You have a concussion, so I’m going to be driving you home.” He didn’t give her a chance to protest, just went out into the hall.
Call it his detective skills kicking in a week early, but Brandon wanted more information from the pretty Nora Donnelly.
She wasn’t telling him something. Something that could possibly help find her attacker. She may not have known him, but he had a feeling the man knew her.
Over an hour had passed before Mrs. Donnelly had been released and was ready to leave with Brandon. In the patrol car she’d been quiet, except when giving directions to her home. She let him know that she was done talking about the attack, so Brandon didn’t even try asking her anything more.
So he took a different route. “How long have you lived in San Angelo?”
Nora kept her gaze on where they were going. “A few months.” She paused, then said, “I wanted to make a fresh start for me and my son.”
“Where are you from?”
She finally turned to him. “Phoenix, Arizona. Is there a reason for your interrogation?”
He shrugged. “I thought I was carrying on a conversation.”
“Since my head is pounding, I’d appreciate it if we didn’t exchange pleasantries right now.”
He nodded. Ten minutes later, they drove through the security gate at her apartment complex. The place was newly built, less than two years ago. Brandon had thought about living here when he’d moved into town, but instead he’d bought a townhouse as an investment. Of course, he already owned a ranch with a big house that he could move in to anytime he wanted to go back.
Brandon turned down her street and Nora directed him to a parking space in front of her apartment. The car had barely stopped when she had the door open and was climbing out by the time he got to her side. She reminded him of the Randell women: independent and stubborn. He took her arm anyway.
Nora tried not to walk too fast, but she wanted to get inside and away from Deputy Randell. Not only did she long to get into bed and try to put this night out of her head, but she also couldn’t let him delve any deeper into her past. If Jimmy sent this guy tonight, she had to think about her next move.
“Thank you, Deputy, for taking me home.”
“Why don’t I make sure you’re safely inside?” He stepped closer, blocking some of the light. Nora drew a breath, inhaling his clean male scent. His gaze met hers, causing a strange warm rush down her spine. She quickly moved away, giving him room to work the key into the dead bolt, then allowing him to open the apartment door.
Nora walked into the small entry, set down her purse on the table, then went into the living area to find Millie seated in front of the television. Her son’s babysitter turned around, then got up and rushed to her.
“Oh, Nora,” she cried as she examined her friend’s face. “You didn’t tell me you were hurt this badly.”
“Don’t, Millie. Like I told you when I called, I’m fine. Really.”
The gray-haired woman frowned. “You don’t