Disclaimer – I own nothing! The characters belong to J.K Rowling and Lisa Kleypas. The plot belongs to Lisa Kleypas.

Chapter 11

Draco left the house before supper, while Luna dined in solitude. She wondered what companions he would seek tonight, if he would lounge in a coffee shop and take part in some political discussion, or visit his club and play cards while a saucy wench perched on his knee. There would be no shortage of available women for such a man. Draco had the appearance of a gentleman, but he possessed a hint of street swagger, a combination irresistible to any female. No doubt he had inspired countless fantasies among the women of London, either high or low.

A cold heaviness settled in her chest, making it difficult to eat more than a few bites of tasty lamb. Taking several books with her, Luna retired to bed and read until her eyes tired. However, the books failed to work their magic, her eyes were tired but she couldn't sleep.

Someone had tried to murder her, and would possibly try again when it was discovered that she was alive. Although she had faith in Draco's ability to protect her and uncover the identity of her assailant, she also knew that he wasn't infallible. And instead of being a help to him and supplying the information that would solve everything, she sat here like a dunce, all relevant facts locked away in some impenetrable vault in her mind. It was maddening.

Setting the book aside, Luna rolled to her stomach and contemplated the shadows cast by the bedside lamp. What would become of her? She had ruined herself by choosing a path that no decent woman would venture along. There were few options left, other than to return to prostitution, to find some man who might condescend to marry her, or to try her hand at some kind of respectable work that might yield enough to support her. Only the third choice held any appeal. But who would employ her when she had a publicly ruined character?

Morosely Luna stared at a lock of her own golden hair as it curled across the mattress. Without vanity, she understood that her looks were sufficient to attract men, whether or not she desired their attentions. And she would never be able to hide the fact that she had once been a prostitute. The truth would always come out. No matter what position she held, there would be men, insulting and propositioning, offering sexual bargains if she wished to retain her job.

Luna wrestled with the increasingly unpleasant thoughts before falling into an uneasy sleep. More nightmares awaited her, dreams of water and drowning and choking. She twisted against the sheets, kicked and struggled until the sheets wrapped around her legs. Finally she awakened with a low cry and sat bolt upright, breathing hard, eyes staring blankly in the darkness.

"Luna."

The quiet voice made her quiver in startled reaction. "What-"

"I heard you cry out. I came to see if you were all right."

Draco, she thought, but his familiar presence didn't make her relax. For a split second she feared that he had come to demand that she take him into her bed. Or his bed, as the case was. "It was only a nightmare," she said shakily. "I'm all right now. I'm sorry if I bothered you." Luna saw Draco's outline in the darkness, a huge shadowy figure that approached the side of the bed. Her heartbeat fluttered and faltered in alarm. Shrinking to the center of the mattress, she went rigid as he reached for the covers. In a few quick, deft motions he straightened the linens and folded the top of the sheet over the edge of the blankets.

"Would you like a glass of water?" he asked matter-of-factly.

The question was reassuringly innocuous. Although Luna didn't remember any of her previous knowledge about men and sexual matters, it didn't seem likely that a seducer would offer a woman a glass of water before ravishing her. "No, thank you," she murmured, reshaping a pillow behind her. A shaky laugh escaped her. "Perhaps you could light the lamp? The nightmares are so vivid, I'm afraid to fall asleep again. Silly, isn't it? I'm no better than a child afraid of the dark."

"No, it's not silly." His voice changed, becoming very gentle. "Let me stay with you tonight, Luna. It's only a few hours until morning."

She was silent with confusion.

"I'll hold you… as a friend," he said quietly. "As a brother, all I want is to keep the nightmares away." He paused, and a subtle trace of laughter wound its way through his next words. "Well, that's not all I want... but the rest will keep for later. Shall I stay, or would you prefer me to light the lamp?"

With more than a little surprise, Luna realized that she did indeed wish him to stay. It wasn't the wisest of decisions. She was certainly inviting trouble. But the comfort of another human being would indeed keep the nightmares at bay... and it hardly hurt that he was a large, strong male who feared nothing.

"First let me ask something," she said cautiously. "What are you wearing?"

"What do you mean, what am I wearing?" he asked in confused.

She decided to be blunt. "You aren't naked, are you?"

"I put on a robe before I came in here," he replied dryly. "Disappointed?"

"No," she said, so quickly that it drew a catch of laughter from him.

"I'm a fairly impressive sight without my clothes, if you wonder."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Let's have it, Miss Lovegood... Shall I stay or leave?"

Luna hesitated a long time before replying. "Stay," she said softly.

The mattress depressed beneath Draco's considerable weight. Luna sucked in a deep breath and pressed her fists hard in the lee of her stomach to calm the nervous flurry inside. The covers were lifted and his long, large body slid beside hers. Immediately she was suffused with warmth as they were cocooned beneath the layer of linen and wool.

With extreme care, Draco curved his arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, so they were pressed together spoon fashion. Luna couldn't prevent a small gasp at the animal heat and hardness of his body, evident through the nightclothes that separated them.

"You're not afraid, are you?" he murmured at the soft sound.

"No," she replied breathlessly. "But... I'm having a difficult time thinking of you as a friend."

The arm at her waist tightened a minute degree. "Good," he said thickly.

Luna was quiet for a time, absorbing the sensation of being held by him. She was surrounded by the scents of soap and clean male skin, and the heat that warded off the night-chilled air. Her limbs turned heavy and relaxed, and she felt her spine conform to the shape of his body. She inched backward, seeking more of the delicious contact with him. Gently his hand fell to her hip, keeping her still.

"Don't wiggle about." He sounded a bit gruff. "I'm not a eunuch."

A wave of mortification engulfed her as she became aware of the burning shape of his arousal, wedged high against her butt and the small of her back. "I don't think this is a good idea," she managed. "I'll never fall asleep this way."

"Do you want me to leave?"

Considering the question in confounded silence, Luna struggled with the headings of her conscience and the pure physical pleasure of being in his arms. Her conscience was soon to be disappointed. "Well..." she said uncertainly, "I'm not sleeping, but at least I won't have nightmares."

He chuckled. "I'm glad you trust me. I expected you to turn down my offer."

"I almost did," she replied. "But it occurred to me that if you were going to ravish me, you had a few opportunities before tonight."

"I would never force myself on an unwilling woman."

"I should imagine you rarely encounter one of those."

"Oh, there have been a few," he said dryly.

Resting quietly against him, Luna felt his breath stir the downy fuzz on the nape of her neck. One of her bare feet touched his ankle, the brush of wiry masculine hair tickling her skin pleasantly. He was an excessively masculine creature, and the knowledge that all his strength and virility were held in check but for one word from her should have frightened her. Instead she was fascinated. Flirting with danger was an undeniably heady feeling.

"Draco?" she said softly. "Why have you never married?"

He chuckled. "I'm not the marrying kind." He picked up the braided rope of her hair and played with the feathery ends.

"You never intend to have a wife and children?"

"What reason is there? I feel no overwhelming need to continue a damned undistinguished family line. Neither do I have great confidence in my ability to stay faithful to one woman for a lifetime. When I want female companionship, I can get it. My servants look after the household and see to my meals and my comfort. What use would I have for a wife?"

"You've never met a woman you couldn't live without?"

She felt him smile against the back of her head. "You've read too many novels."

"I'm sure you're right," she said ruefully. "Nevertheless... won't you regret it when you're old and gray, and you have no life's companion to reminisce with-"

"And no grandchildren to dandle on my knee," he finished. "Thank you, but I have no ambitions to produce offspring who will yank my whiskers and hide my walking stick behind the settee. I'd rather enjoy some peace in my old age... if I live that long."

"How cynical you are."

"I am," he acknowledged evenly. "The strange part is you are too. But to listen to you, one would think you're an idealistic innocent."

"I don't feel cynical," she remarked after a moment. "I don't feel like anything you've told me I am."

A contemplative silence followed, while the warm pressure of his hand settled at her shoulder.

"Draco," she said with a stifled yawn, "how long before I'm allowed to visit my town house?"

"When Dr. Remus Lupin says you're fit to be up and about."

"Good. He's coming to see me tomorrow. I'm sure he won't have any objections to my going."

"Why the hurry?" Draco asked softly. "What do you hope to find at the town house?"

"My memory." She pressed her head deeper into the welcoming softness of the pillow. "When I see my familiar possessions and all my own books, I'm positive that everything will come back to me. I'm so weary of feeling so... so blank."

"You don't have many books," he said. "I don't recall seeing more than a handful."

"Oh." She twisted to face him, their noses nearly touching in the darkness. "Why do I like things now that I didn't like before?"

"I don't know." His breath, scented with cinnamon and the slightest hint of coffee, puffed against her chin. "Perhaps Lupin will have an answer for that."

"What do you think will happen when I regain my memory? Will I change back to the way I was before?"

"I hope so," he muttered.

"Why?" she asked, hurt by the blunt statement. "You don't like me the way I am now?"

"I like you too damned much," he said brusquely. "And you're going to make it bloody inconvenient for me to-"

"To what?"

He didn't reply, only growled a curse that set her ears on fire. "I warn you, Luna, if you're playing some kind of game with me, I'll probably end up killing you myself."

"I'm not playing a game," she replied innocently. "Why would I? If I had anything to tell regarding the person who tried to drown me, believe me, I would come out with it right away. I won't be safe until he's caught, will I?"

"No, you won't, which leads to one last point... you're not to go anywhere without me."

"Of course, I'm not stupid."

His large hands turned her over to face away from him and urged her to the center of the bed, until they were at least an arm's length apart. "Now, stay there," he said. "And mind you don't roll against me in the night, or you won't like what happens."

"There's no danger of that," she responded pertly. "This bed is so large; we may as well be in separate counties."

Somehow, against Luna's expectations, she did fall asleep that night, and she wasn't troubled by a single dream. Once or twice she awoke and saw the dark outline of Draco's solid body. There was a novel comfort in sleeping with a man, a sense of being utterly protected. Perhaps they did have their uses, she reflected drowsily, before sinking into a satisfying slumber.