“You wanted to go to the justice of the peace the next morning, but I told you my parents would kill us if we didn’t get married in a proper church.”
He touched my cheek, his fingers moving over my jaw with a gentleness that felt so familiar. “And I agreed because I knew it would make you happy.”
“It did.” I sighed. “I can remember how it felt when I opened that box. I remember the things you said to me, the way that felt. I just…it’s like someone took my life and cut it into little pieces and scattered the pieces in the wind.”
“It’ll come back.”
“I was happy,” I said. “So very happy.”
“We both were.”
His hand moved around my jaw, and his fingers buried themselves in my hair. I knew he was going to kiss me. And I knew what it was going to feel like. But when his lips brushed mine, I wasn’t prepared for the fireworks that seemed to explode inside of me. He tasted like caramels and salt, like a day at the beach, a lazy afternoon in the sun. He felt familiar, but new all at the same time. His kiss was nothing like the wet, invasive kisses I’d shared with Philip.
How could I forget this? I could I forget a man who was so romantic, so kind, that he would rent out an entire restaurant for me? How could I forget the man I’d planned my entire future around, the man whose children I so desperately wanted to have? And I did want them. I could feel it in that memory. I could feel the need that burned inside of me, the yearning for something that only he could provide.
I slid closer to him, maneuvering my plaster-covered leg with a little difficulty. I hated that I only had one hand with which to touch him, but I was so glad to be able to touch him at all. I ran my hand along his chest, sliding my fingers over his throat to feel his pulse pounding just under his warm flesh. And then I buried my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer to me. I wanted him closer. I felt so safe with him close to me.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered against my lips.
And that threatened to make my heart burst.
His hand found its way to my hip, as he kissed my throat, my heart pounding as tingles of pleasure chased themselves up and down my spine. Then his fingers were under the bottom hem of my shirt, dancing up along my ribs, teasing me as they brushed the bottom of my bra and then danced back down. My nipples tightened, my body aching to feel his touch. As far as I knew, I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted his mouth on my throat, his hand on my breasts.
His mouth found mine again, and I wanted nothing more than to explore his deepest secrets. A little voice at the back of my head warned me that this might be too fast. I barely knew this man. But, then again, I’d spent a little more than a year loving this man. I was engaged to him, planning a wedding, a life together. How could this be moving too fast?
His fingers had just begun to tug at the back of my bra, searching for a way to get it open, when the doorbell rang.
I groaned. “Ignore it.”
He ran his fingers over my skull, playing with the fuzz that was slowly turning into something like hair.
“It might be the physical therapist. He said he was going to stop by sometime today to introduce himself and explain what he was going to be doing for you.”
“He can come back.”
Xander smiled, even as he slowly untangled his limbs from those of mine that still worked properly.
“That’s the Harley I know,” he said somewhat flippantly.
I liked it. I didn’t want him to censor himself anymore. I wanted him to treat me the way he would have the old Harley. And this was definitely a good start.
He disappeared into the entryway again. I heard the door open and a man’s voice demand, “Where is she?”
And then chaos exploded.
Chapter 12
Xander
I couldn’t believe she remembered the day I proposed!
For a minute there, the old Harley was back. I could see it in her eyes, the way she looked at me as she remembered that night. My Harley.
I knew it would work. I knew bringing her home and surrounding her with familiar things would bring her back. It took longer than I expected, but she was finally coming back. And soon, we could get back to the way things were. We could get on with the rest of our lives.
And then the doorbell rang.
I should have listened to her. I should have ignored it.
“Where is she?”
It was Harley’s parents.
“Dr. Alistair—”
“Get out of my way!”
He barged past me, Amanda looking at me with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. I just stepped back.
What would have been the point of trying to stop them?
“Harley?”
“Dr. Alistair yelled up the stairs before continuing on to the sitting room. I followed, somewhat reluctantly. Amanda did the same, brushing past me when she caught sight of Harley on the couch.
“Harley,” she said, sitting beside her, her hands running over Harley’s head as though looking for physical evidence of the fractured skull.
“What have you done?” Dr. Alistair demanded, spinning around to confront me rather than go to his daughter as his wife had done. “Why didn’t you call us? Why did we have to hear secondhand about this?”
“I tried. But you were on your cruise and I didn’t want to upset Shelly and Charlie.”
“You could have contacted the cruise line. You could have called our attorney. You know he always knows how to contact us in an emergency.”
I shook my head, watching as Harley accepted a hug from her mother.
“You should have called.”
“I called the house and spoke to Shelly.”
Dr. Alistair slammed a finger into my chest. “And bringing her here? What the hell were you thinking? You had no right!”
“He’s my fiancé, Daddy,” Harley said.
“Is that what he told you?” Dr. Alistair asked, not bothering to look at his daughter. He was too busy staring at me. “Is that the lie he chose to tell?”
Confusion immediately blossomed on Harley’s face.
“But I remembered the day he proposed. It was really romantic. He rented out a restaurant—”
“We know, dear,” her mother said soothingly—in the same voice I imagined she used with the big animals in their veterinarian practice.
“I don’t understand.”
“He’s lying to you, Harley,” Dr. Alistair said. “He’s using your accident to take advantage of you. If you could remember everything that’s happened over the last couple of months—”
“But I can’t. I’ve got a type of amnesia.”
“We know,” Amanda said. “We spoke with your doctor.”
“How did you find out about all of this, anyway?” I asked. But I was pretty sure I already knew.
“Margaret. Margaret Wallace called us.”
I nodded, wondering briefly why it had taken her so long. It was just like Margaret to ruin everything for me. She’d done it so many times before; why would I even think she wouldn’t do it this time, too?
“Margaret?” Harley said.
“She called the office and told us everything,” Dr. Alistair said. “How the hospital called you because of some emergency contact card Harley probably forgot was in her fanny pack, and how you decided not to call us right away. She also told us about you bringing Harley here, hoping it would help her remember what she’s forgotten. But if you’d just taken her to her apartment—”
“My apartment?” There was panic in Harley’s eyes as she looked at me. “You said I lived here.”
“You do,” I assured her.
“No,” Dr. Alistair said, “you don’t.”
He seemed to actually relish the moment. Why was I surprised? The man had never liked me. He’d probably prayed every day from the moment we met that Harley would break up with me. He likely threw a party on the day he found out Harley called off the wedding and moved out.
“You bro
ke it off with him three months ago,” Amanda said, as she patted her daughter’s hand. “A week before the wedding.”
“He’s not your fiancé, darling,” Dr. Alistair added. “In fact, you had a restraining order against him that expired the day before the accident.”
And there it was. It was all out in the open now.
What was that old saying? Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
That was me. Back in my own personal hell.
~ End of Part One ~
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REMEMBER US: A Billionaire Romance (Part One) Page 7