by Jaci Burton
“Sounds great. How did the dolphin release go today?”
“Oh it went very well.” She handed him a glass and watched his lips caress the edge. She found herself licking her own lips, wondering what he’d taste like.
Wondering, or was it remembering? Something about him struck her as familiar. Intimately familiar, which was impossible since they’d been nothing more than working colleagues at the lab. But an awareness of him on a male/female level stabbed at her. Desire flooded her body as she watched his long legs stroll through her living room and out onto the patio. She was shocked at her reaction to a man she barely knew.
And what was he doing here anyway? “I thought you’d left already.”
He took a long swallow of wine. Her gaze gravitated to his Adam’s apple. She shivered, but it was warm outside.
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow. I just came by to check on the dolphins. You did well, Jasmine.”
“Thank you for your help with this, Trey.” That much, at least, she remembered. Other than that, the time he’d spent at the aquarium was pretty much a blur.
“Glad I could help. We worked well together.”
His husky voice intimated something more than a professional relationship. Ridiculous. Having sex with a man like Triton Sanders was certainly something she’d never forget.
“So now what are you going to do?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Don’t know. I’m quitting my job here.”
He arched a brow. “Really? Why?”
“It doesn’t hold the appeal it used to.”
“I see. What are you going to do instead?”
“I have no idea. This is going to sound strange, but I feel as if I need to be somewhere else, doing something else, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what that ‘something else’ is.”
His enigmatic smile unnerved her.
“Are you happy, Jasmine?”
What a strange question, and yet she found herself wanting to answer him. Maybe if she voiced her concerns, they’d go away. “Frankly, I’m miserable. Ever since I woke up a few days ago I’ve been unable to shake this weird melancholy. Maybe it’s post dolphin recovery letdown or something. This weird depression hit me like a virus and won’t let go.”
And now he’d think she was an idiot. Good move there, Jasmine. Blurt out your psycho problems to a virtual stranger.
“I know exactly what’s wrong with you.”
Her gaze met his. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m all ears. Tell me.”
“You’re in love.”
She rolled her eyes at him, wondering which of them was more delusional. “Hardly. I’m not even dating anyone.”
“You don’t have to be dating to love someone.”
He put his glass on the table and stood, approaching her. She put her glass down and backed away from him, but not from fear.
No, there was a familiarity in his approach that made her shiver with a sense of déjà vu. She should ask him to leave. He made her feel things she had no business feeling.
But when he gathered her into his arms, she could no more push him away than she could stop breathing. Her breasts brushed his hard chest and her nipples fired to life, puckering with a powerful need to be touched. Her panties moistened, her legs trembled.
Good God almighty, what was happening to her?
He bent his head toward hers. When his lips slid across her mouth, sparks shot between her legs and she let out a low moan. Then he took her mouth in an overpowering kiss that nearly took her legs out from under her.
She was dying in a maelstrom of emotions she wasn’t prepared to handle.
And the worst part was that it all seemed achingly familiar to her.
“Trey, please,” she said, pushing at him, not wanting these strange and yet familiar sensations pummeling at her.
“As you wish, my siren.” He brushed his thumb across her forehead and a white heat flashed inside her head. She clutched her temples as a searing pain stabbed at her, then immediately dissipated.
Clarity came rushing back like a tidal wave. Trey stood in front of her! Her Trey, the man she loved!
“Oh God, I remember everything!” Every second of the past few weeks hit her full force.
“Of course you do. I just restored your memories completely.”
Joy at seeing him again fought with the million questions running through her head. “Why? Why are you here? Why did you give me my memories back?”
“Do you remember what I said to you before I took your memory away?”
She thought about that moment in Oceana after he’d made love to her. Then she looked up at him and nodded, in awe of the words she remembered. “Yes, I do.”
“Then let me say them again. I love you, Jasmine.”
She nodded and smiled through the tears streaming freely down her face. No longer hesitant, she didn’t want another second to pass before she told him how she felt.
“I love you too, Trey. You took my memories away that day before I could tell you that. I love you. I want to live in Oceana with you. It’s already my home. I belong there, so don’t tell me I can’t. From the moment you brought me there it became home to me. I’m supposed to be there with you.”
He laughed lightly and kissed her. “Of course you’re supposed to be there with me.”
The words she thought she’d never hear, the man she thought she’d never be allowed to remember, all of it was real.
“I’m living in a dream, Trey,” she said as he gathered her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“So am I. I never dreamed I could love someone again. Until you made me realize that I’m in love for the first time in my life. Let’s go home, Jasmine.”
She walked out with him, leaving everything behind. She’d already written her letter of resignation. She wouldn’t need any of her things—not in Oceana.
When she stepped into the water with him holding tight to her hand, she smiled, anxious to return to the place she called home.
To Oceana.
About the author:
Jaci Burton has been a dreamer and lover of romance her entire life. Consumed with stories of passion, love and happily ever afters, she finally pulled her fantasy characters out of her head and put them on paper. Writing allows her to showcase the rainbow of emotions that result from falling in love.
Jaci lives in Oklahoma with her husband (her fiercest writing critic and sexy inspiration), stepdaughter and three wild and crazy dogs. Her sons are grown and live on opposite coasts and don’t bother her nearly as often as she’d like them to. When she isn’t writing stories of passion and romance, she can usually be found at the gym, reading a great book, or working on her computer, trying to figure out how she can pull more than twenty-four hours out of a single day.
Jaci welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.