Strangers in the Night

When she came around again, someone was lifting her. She felt strong arms holding her tightly against an equally strong chest. Bright lights popped on and off behind her eyelids. Pain creased a path across her forehead, and she moaned again softly trying to raise her hand to block it out. She tried wriggling free of the tight hold, wasn't having any success. From the brief impression of the person holding her, she didn't feel as if her rescuer meant her any harm.
No, if he'd wanted to, he'd already have tried something. She relaxed and felt comforted in the strong arms draped around her. She glanced up through her long dark lashes and saw the outline of a face. What she saw looked ruggedly handsome, but with her head in such a whirl, she couldn't be sure. Then, a man to her left with the same facial features filled her line of vision. Confusion filled her, this couldn't be right.
Surely, she must be hallucinating and she'd wake up soon to find she'd had a bad dream. There couldn't be two identical men rescuing her. Maybe she was seeing double. A hysterical sensation swept through her over her unstable emotions, but the peaceful black void returned, blotting out everything. The following day she awoke in a king-sized bed, in a rustic cabin. Her gaze drifted around the room trying to identify her surroundings.
There wasn't a thing that looked vaguely familiar. Her gaze landed on a mirror on the table next to the bed. Hope filled her as she picked it up; maybe if she got a look at her face, she might be able to remember her identity. That small hope was the only thing that kept her from panicking again. As she glanced in the mirror, she saw how her long blonde hair needed a good brushing. A heart shaped face and green eyes looked back at her in the glass.
She still didn't find anything coming back to her over her identity.