by Sara Daniel
He’d hoped for answers but not the ones delivered to him. The reclusive owner had left the property to her niece when she’d died, but the niece had already died several weeks before. The person now set to inherit the lake property was the niece’s daughter, Gwendolyn.
The woman who currently rested her head within licking distance of his cock.
Who’d planned to marry his brother.
Who loved resorts.
Who would have Darlene’s full support if she wanted to develop the area.
Shit, shit, shit. She must have been working with Darlene to pull off the development quietly, denying him the chance to fight for the conservation of the natural habitat.
Everything he hadn’t understood at the wedding made sense now. John had been in on the scheme. While the marriage promised him the CEO position, she would get a big-ass resort from the deal, Darlene would gain more power, and the natural habitat would be destroyed.
He crumpled the paper in his fist. If he had his way, Gwen would never remember who she’d been and what she’d been trying to do. He wouldn’t simply wish for it, though. He would do whatever he could to rewrite her memories of the past, so she would love the land, not aim to destroy it.
As a silver lining, he didn’t have to worry about blurring the line between what was real and fake in their relationship. Everything was fake. She was not a person he could like, trust, or build a future with.
Chapter Eight
Unlike last night’s dinner, Tucker barely spoke two words throughout the evening meal, no matter how many times Gwen apologized for falling asleep on him during their picnic. He claimed not to resent her for nodding off, but his icy demeanor said otherwise.
Although she’d done nothing all day but nap, eat, and relax, by the end of the meal her headache had become intolerable. She went straight to her room and crawled into bed. The pain might have been worthwhile if she remembered pieces of herself and her life pre-coma, but she’d come no closer to answers and had drifted further from Tucker than ever.
The next morning she awoke to Sage sashaying across the room, holding out a shake in such a bright hue of green it glowed like a traffic signal. She blinked and sat up in bed, the miserable evening flooding back to her.
“This isn’t working. I’m supposed to be healing, but nothing’s changed. I’m wasting your time and mine and especially Tucker’s.” No wonder he was pissed at her.
“You’re not wasting anyone’s time, and you are making progress, even if you can’t see it,” Sage assured her, pressing the too-bright drink into her hand. “And ignore Tucker. He’s being a bit of a knucklehead, and he’s not helping either of you by dumping my incense and avoiding the shakes I’ve designed especially for him.”
Gwen smiled at the knucklehead description. “If I’m really progressing, I don’t even notice because it happens too slowly. What do you recommend to work off my frustration?”
“Sex is always a good standby.”
She choked on her drink.
Sage laughed. “Alternate option: Trixie is leading a yoga class on the lawn in fifteen minutes. Why don’t you give that a try?”
Yoga. She spun the word around her brain. Nothing clicked to lead her to believe she was a yoga kind of girl. On the other hand, to discover how the Wiccan Haus owners operated their resort, she ought to check out as many of the offered classes and amenities as possible.
Trying out yoga sounded a whole lot less intimidating and risky than testing the benefits of sex.
After dressing in stretchy, comfortable clothes, she paused in the hall at Tucker’s closed door. No, she wouldn’t disturb him by inviting him to join her. He’d lost patience with babysitting her.
She headed to the lawn and took her place at the back of the assembled guests.
“We’re going to start with a palm tree,” a tall woman with long silver hair announced.
Gwen followed the instructions, reaching her hands to the sky and then back behind her. Stretching on tiptoes, she reveled in the salty ocean breeze teasing her face.
“Feel the cool air brushing your skin. Feel the stretch in your body. Clear your mind,” Trixie called out.
Yes. She understood those things. Ignoring the yoga instructions, Gwen reached behind her and pulled one foot up toward her butt. After stretching her hamstring, she repeated on the other side. She didn’t know her yoga poses, but a litany of stretching exercises filled her mind, ones she performed every day before she headed out for a jog.
She ran.
Every day.
She was a runner. Not for sport or to race but to clear her mind and center herself.
Trixie called out a new position, but Gwen ignored her, adrenaline humming through her veins. She knew something about herself, something real and true, and needed to explore every aspect of her discovery.
Spreading her legs, she bent first over one and then the other. She had no idea what kind of stamina she had or if she’d be able to run more than a dozen steps, but she straightened and turned from the class. By living footstep to footstep, heartbeat to heartbeat, she could escape the endless parade of questions she had no answers for.
She’d barely left the lodge behind before her feet become boulders at the ends of her legs and her lungs labored over each breath. Instead of wilting her confidence, the physical discomfort freed her. She couldn’t worry about the things she couldn’t remember if every breath required all her concentration.
With no direction in mind, she ran down a path, retaining just enough outside awareness to retrace her steps for the return trip. But she didn’t want to return. She wanted to keep running, basking in the glorious freedom.
For the first time, no one hovered over her. The blocked sections of her mind didn’t cripple her. Jogging freed her from the past she couldn’t remember and from the future that made no sense without a past to ground her.
So she ran. And ran. Through the woods. Along trails. Onto sand. Until her body refused to take another step. With a final wheeze, she collapsed onto the sand. Her blurred vision created a mirage of water in front of her.
She gasped for breath through the fire in her lungs and squeezed her eyes closed. When she lifted her lids, the water remained, placid waves lapping the sand in front of her. She raised her head slowly.
A lake stretched before her, the sun sparkling off the water, the brightness too intense for her eyes to tolerate. She’d never seen this lake before. She was sure of it. Yet, at the same time, something about it felt familiar.
She untied her shoes, pulled them off, and stuffed her socks inside. Then she wandered to the water’s edge, letting the sand seep between her toes and the waves lap her ankles. The lake bottom was too gritty and less slimy than she expected. She preferred mud and muck to squish between her toes as it did when she walked barefoot along the edge of her lake.
She had a lake? How could that be possible? She and her mother had lived in an apartment in the city with a concrete balcony instead of a yard. But her certainty didn’t waver. A lake was part of her present and figured into her future.
She sat on an oversized rock at the edge of the water, letting her feet dangle in the refreshing coolness. Staring at the sand and pebbles below the surface, she allowed the rhythmic motion and calm natural beauty to entrance her.
She was a runner. With a lake. The pieces didn’t tell the whole story, but they gave her more than she’d known this morning.
If only she could uncover what part Tucker played in her present and future, she might understand enough to begin to move forward and live again.
***
“Where’s Gwen?” Tucker asked as Sage approached him in the lobby, holding out a glass of thick lavender liquid.
“She’s fine. She’s doing what she needs to do.” Sage pressed the glass into his hand. “I made this just for you.”
He grimaced. “Thanks, but I’m not thirsty.” Especially for something that looked like liquid c
otton candy.
She frowned. “Why are you so against indulging in anything that could help you heal?”
Maybe because he had nothing to heal from. Obviously, the staff wasn’t accustomed to guests who merely accompanied someone else. “Tell you what, I’ll drink the shake if you tell me where to find Gwen?”
“If you stay here, you’ll run into her,” the wispy blonde promised.
He gritted his teeth, ignored the unnatural purple drink, glared through the window, and paced the floor. Yesterday, in the orchard, he’d been angry with Gwen, but now his anger and frustration focused inward. He hated the idea of her recovering her memory and turning back into the type of woman who’d manipulate a man into marriage and strike deals with Darlene. That wasn’t the woman he knew, and he couldn’t mesh the two personalities in his brain.
Two long hours later, Gwen strode up the path, pumping her arms, more energetic than she’d been since racing up the church aisle over a month ago. The only other time he’d witnessed such excitement and happiness on her face was dancing at the Christmas party.
He opened the door to the lodge and marched down the sidewalk to meet her.
She beamed at him, placing her hand on his forearm. “I have to talk to you.”
“About what? Where did you go this morning?” A chill swept through him. Her excitement likely had to do with her memory returning, but if that were the case, she wouldn’t be happy to see him.
Her happy expression faded, and she released his arm.
Their relationship might be a fraud, but his attraction to her from the moment she’d awoken in that hospital bed had grown into something real. He not only wanted the real person inside her to break forth and shine, he wanted a part in making that happen. Instead, he’d been pacing the lobby, excluded.
“Sage suggested I try a yoga class, but I barely finished the first position when I remembered that I like to run.” Her smile returned, and her eyes sparkled. “I’m a runner.”
He’d had no idea. What a joke that he pretended to be engaged to her when he was clueless as to her favorite hobby and the things that brought her joy.
“While I was running,” she continued, “I discovered a lake. The view is gorgeous and stunning, just like everything else here. It reminds me of another lake, a place just as beautiful but with tall grass all around it. I can picture frogs jumping in the water as I wander around the shore. Did I ever take you there? Can you tell me more about it and help me remember?”
He froze, his worst nightmare coming to life, even as she remained eager and excited. Instinctively, he retreated to his position against greedy developers. “The natural habitat of the lake needs to be preserved, not commercialized so you can make a profit.”
Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “I plan to destroy the natural beauty of my lake?”
He hadn’t come to the Wiccan Haus on vacation or to fall in love with his brother’s jilted fiancée. As much he wanted to ignore his conservation duties, he couldn’t give her a free pass to destruction. “The lake isn’t yours. It belongs to the plant life it supports and the animals and fish who need it to maintain their ecosystem.”
“I don’t want to change it or jeopardize anything that grows in the area.”
Tenderness and hope whipped through him, even though he couldn’t hold her to that declaration until her amnesia completely faded. “Do you remember believing that, or are you just telling me what I want to hear?”
She rubbed her temples. “Okay, I don’t know what I actually wanted before, but it seems like this lake memory connects with my urge to run a resort. Does every resort have to leave a giant carbon footprint? What if I planned to create one that supports conservation efforts and makes people more aware of their environment and what they can do to preserve it?”
Lakes and resorts weren’t part of who she really was. Instead of focusing on preservation efforts that had never been on her agenda, he needed to help her focus on her true self, the things that made Gwen Fairfax shine. “Tell me about the jog you took today. What’s it like to be a runner?”
The bright excitement didn’t return to her gaze. If anything, she appeared annoyed with him. “Give me a little credit for knowing you well enough to understand you care a lot more about what happens to plant habitats than how many miles I run each day. If my plans weren’t environmentally friendly, what if I changed them going forward?”
Conservation had always mattered more to him, and he couldn’t deny the appeal of partnering with her to build a nature-friendly business plan. But opening any contentious topic could destroy the fragile trust and fledgling relationship between them.
Memories didn’t change the essence of who she was. They could build something true that didn’t have anything to do with outside forces. He wanted to fall for the woman who looked so happy and excited after returning from a run, the woman who hung on to his every word as if what he had to say really mattered, and the woman who turned soft and pliant in his arms when they kissed.
He’d always believed he could survive a broken heart easier than a destroyed natural habitat. The thought of testing that theory made him afraid both he and Gwen would come out on the losing end.
Chapter Nine
After lunch, Tucker led the way along a trail of rare and beautiful plants, steering Gwen far away from the lake, the ocean, and the hot springs—anything that might trigger another water memory. They held hands all afternoon, returned to the Haus for dinner, and then strolled the grounds again afterward.
The sun had dipped out of sight by the time they traveled up the winding path to the orchard. She leaned against a sturdy tree trunk and smiled at him. The perfection of their time together washed over him. He didn’t want to remember anything else or contemplate a life beyond the island. He simply wanted to continue living every moment in her sweetness and enjoying their simple pleasures.
Resting his hands on the thick branches on either side of her, he stepped toward her, inhaling the apple fragrance surrounding them.
She traced her fingers over the scruff on his face. “I’ve yet to see what you look like clean-shaven.”
Once she did, would the resemblance to his brother trigger her memory? “Don’t hold your breath. If you wanted a pretty boy, you picked the wrong fiancé.”
Her smile didn’t waver. “I’m happy with the one I’ve got.”
Warmth and guilt spread through him. She might be happy now, but that would all disintegrate once she realized she really did have another fiancé—one she’d actually chosen. “I could make you happier.”
“Really? How so?”
“Like this.” He leaned in until his lips brushed hers. With his arms braced against the tree, he pushed himself away but couldn’t resist returning to her promised sweetness. He angled in, resting his mouth against hers, soaking in her short, wispy breaths.
As he caressed her bottom lip with his tongue, she shivered.
“Good?” he asked, perilously close to trembling from a simple, closed-mouth kiss. Gwen turned even the smallest, most incidental touch into a momentous act worthy of savoring.
She nodded, her eyes wide and glassy.
He bent his head to taste her again. Surrounded by pungent apple scent, he melded his mouth to hers and kissed her with a longing that welled from deep inside.
Tangling his tongue with hers, he drank in her soft moans, aching with the growing need to experience her in every way, to love her thoroughly, to truly make her his.
“Tucker,” she whispered.
“Hmm.”
“Did we ever kiss like this before? How could I not remember something so wonderful and amazing?”
Shit. Of course, their perfect romance was too good to be true. “I don’t know how you can’t remember. I guess if you could, we wouldn’t have had to spend a week here.”
He shoved away from the tree and turned from her. He couldn’t build something from nothing as long as she tried t
o rediscover what had never existed.
Tucker paced away from the tree, running both hands through his hair. Gwen wanted to follow and recapture the magic from moments before. But, still reeling from the kiss, her knees were too weak to support her without the tree trunk against her back.
If she hadn’t said anything, surely their passion would have eventually sparked her memory. Of course they had kissed like this in the past. Their chemistry had led to their engagement, after all.
But, no, she’d had to remind him that she didn’t remember anything about their relationship, as if he hadn’t been special enough for her to recall. Unable to imagine how anything could be further from the truth, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and reassure him.
Before she could, she needed some reassurance of her own. Why hadn’t even a scrap of recognition surfaced? When she’d discovered the lake, she’d tapped into a foggy memory of her lake. When she’d first laid eyes on the Wiccan Haus, she knew a resort figured into her life.
Why did the memories of Tucker refuse to return?
Perhaps they’d argued about her resort plans. If she’d denied his pleas to preserve the natural habitat, their disagreement could have come close to tearing them apart. No matter how much he loved her, he wouldn’t back down on the environment issues.
But they could talk through it. Whatever their differences in the past, she’d rethink her stance and give compromise another shot. His adamant regard for preserving the natural habitat resonated with her.
“I’m sorry, Tucker,” she called out, digging her nails into the tree trunk. “If you kiss me again, I promise I won’t interrupt with stupid questions.”
“Not a stupid question. As long as you can’t remember, my advances are inappropriate.” He shot a pained smile over his shoulder, making her feel even worse. Her loss of memory couldn’t have been a picnic for him, but all the pampering, special treatment, and support went straight to her, leaving him stuck waiting for her to come around while he had no one to vent his frustrations to.