Memory Reload

by Rosemary Heim

  She nibbled her full lower lip. Most of her lipstick had worn off through dinner. Ryan wondered if she’d still taste of the wine they’d drunk with the meal. A twist of desire razored straight to his groin. He held back a groan and concentrated on her answer, watching with intent concentration as her mouth formed the words, her lips shaped each syllable.

  “I’d hoped we could do that before…” Her voice trailed off as they stopped at the back door of the cottage. She turned to face him. “I suppose it makes more sense for you to take care of it on your own.”

  “I promise not to peek at anything until I get back.” He brushed his hand across her shoulders and more of her braid loosened.

  “Fine.” She smiled up at him. “I’ll check Jamie’s darkroom in the morning. If I need anything, could you pick up some supplies while you’re at the lab?”

  “Yes, ma’am, my pleasure.” He took a slow, deep breath. Her delicate scent teased his weakening control.

  She shook her head. A frown pinched between her eyebrows as she swept her hair forward over her shoulder to discover his handiwork.

  He held up the coated elastic, rather pleased that he’d managed to undo most of the braid before she caught him. He winked at her.

  “How’d you manage to do that?” A smile lifted her full lips, revealing a hint of the dimple. She reached for the hair tie, her elegant fingers lingering for a moment against his hand before drawing back.

  “Tsk, tsk. Never expect an agent to divulge his methods.” He held the door open for her. As they stepped into the kitchen, a low growl came from the direction of the living room. The cat crouched in the doorway, his back hairs standing in a stiff ridge along his spine and his tail at full bristle.

  Adrenaline buzzed through his veins, washing away any aftereffects of the dinner wine.

  “We must have startled him.” Alex took a step forward.

  He stopped her. “He’s looking the other direction.” He pulled his gun from his back holster.

  Alex drew back. Dread overlaid surprise. Even dining in his friend’s home, Ryan had been armed. Was it habit or did he really expect to need a weapon?

  “Stay behind me,” he directed in a low voice.

  She followed his movements as he edged around the kitchen. He picked up a flashlight from the counter and positioned himself beside the open doorway.

  In one smooth motion he swung through the door, gun and flashlight covering every corner of the room.

  Her heart pounded. She held her breath, half expecting to hear a shot. Instead, there was the soft click of the light switch.

  The warm glow of the table lamps revealed everything in neat order. Ryan eased his way down the hall.

  She scooped Ansel off the floor and followed, keeping some distance between them, but not letting Ryan out of her sight. Their cautious inspection ended in her bedroom.

  The overhead light revealed the room much as she’d left it. Ryan holstered his gun and turned to her. She pointed at the bed. “My camera bag,” she whispered. “When we left, it was on the floor.”

  “You’re certain?”

  She nodded and handed Ansel to him. The sharp click of the quick-release snaps sounded in the room. She folded the lid back, her heart thumping in her throat.

  “Is everything there?” Ryan asked.

  “Yes, but it’s not right.” She laid camera bodies and lenses on the bed, opened film canisters, dumped them out. “It’s all jumbled up. Nothing’s in the right place.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She turned to Ryan. “Who did this? How did they get in here?”

  “Both very good questions.”

  “I thought you said I’d be safer here.”

  “I thought you would be.”

  “If I’d been here alone…” The words caught in her throat.

  “You weren’t. And going forward, you’ll be with either Jamie or me.” He handed Ansel back to her and headed to the kitchen.

  She set Ansel on the bed and stowed her camera bag before following Ryan. He spoke on the phone with Jamie, alerting him to the intruder and asking him to check the security system.

  The call complete, he pulled her into his arms, cocooning her in his strength. “You’re safe here, I promise, baby. Whoever it is, they’re looking for something. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

  “I want to remember, really I do, but…”

  “Shhh, it’s going to be all right.” He stroked a soothing hand down her back, then threaded his fingers through her hair, releasing the final few twists of her braid. “I’ve wanted to do this all evening.”

  She searched his face, memorizing the play of light and shadow on his features. She’d wanted this all evening, as well. In spite of the amnesia, or maybe because of it, this man had captured her heart. Without the protection of her memories, she’d begun to fall just a little in love with him.

  With the return of her memories, she understood the futility of the situation. Their worlds were not really so different, but their methods for dealing with life were as opposite as night and day.

  She wanted the security of a home. Ryan held himself separate from any such permanence.

  Depending on others came all too easily for her. He relied only on himself.

  The contrast was inescapable and none of that mattered. Before she realized it, before she had even thought to create a defense against him, it was too late.

  She wasn’t just a little in love.

  He drew her closer. “There’s something else I’ve wanted to do all evening.”

  Her eyes fluttered shut. Other senses took over, casting vivid images in her mind’s eye. His heat and pure masculine scent surrounded her in a blanket of desire. The first caress of his lips against hers was soft as the dawn light. He cradled her head in one hand. With his arm around her waist he drew her closer still. His teeth grazed her lower lip, nipping and tugging with soft insistence.

  She’d lost so much. The thought of pulling away from Ryan, of denying what was about to happen between them, grew unbearable. For better or worse, for however long this connection existed between them, she would accept what portion of himself Ryan was willing to share.

  Fear and anticipation mingled, squeezing her chest with an aching tightness. She drew a quaking breath. Ryan took full advantage of the opportunity and deepened the kiss, his tongue delving in to tease the soft flesh of her inner lip.

  She thrilled at the sensations his touch set off. His hands warmed the naked skin of her back. Heat uncurled and spread from where his hand pressed against her spine through her entire body.

  Fear melted. Tomorrow would be soon enough to pick up the pieces.

  A long-dormant hunger developed into full-blown urgency. She opened her mouth, welcoming the touch and taste of his kiss.

  She wound her arms around his neck, snugging herself as close to his hard-muscled body as she could. The silk of her dress rubbed across her sensitized skin, adding to the myriad sensations clamoring to overwhelm her. Ryan’s low groan triggered her own instant response.

  She wanted to be closer, to feel every breath he took, to pulse with every beat of his heart.

  He swept her off her feet and carried her down the hall, never breaking their hungry kiss as he turned into his bedroom. The stained-glass table lamp next to his bed threw shards of color around the room, lighting their way.

  The support of his arm beneath her legs shifted. The skirt of her dress rode up as he lowered her feet to the cool wooden floor. His hand followed the fabric’s journey, tracing a path of fire until he encountered the tiny scrap of her panties.

  He curled one finger in the thong’s waistband and tugged, sending her heart chasing to new heights. Her moan escaped with the last of her breath.

  Still they kissed. His hot mouth trailed a path from her lips across her jaw, stopping for a moment to nibble at her earlobe. Each tiny nip sent jolts of excitement straight to her belly. The assault on her senses robbed her legs of any ability to stand
. Coherent thought faded.

  Ryan paused at the pulse fluttering madly at the base of her throat. The shoulder of her dress impeded any further progress of his mouth against her skin. He slid the offending fabric out of the way and continued exploring the taste and fragrance of her.

  With one shoulder freed, he brushed the other red silk shoulder down her arm. He held her too close for the dress to just fall away, but he couldn’t bring himself to loosen his hold. He contented himself with running his hand through her hair and using the ends to tease over her naked skin.

  She moaned as his hand slipped inside her dress and smoothed along her delicate rib cage, not quite reaching the curve of her breast. She pushed at his shoulders.

  For one instant he thought she’d changed her mind, that she wanted to stop. Then he realized she was as busy with his clothes as he was with hers. She managed to undo his shirt buttons and push the fabric open. All that stood between them was the heavy crimson silk of her dress.

  The tight beads of her nipples brushed across his chest in an erotic caress. It was his turn to groan as desire lanced through him, pulling him tighter, ratcheting the hunger even higher.

  He shrugged out of his jacket and shirt, tossing them aside as he reached for her once more. He brushed his hands down her arms, pushing the dress free until it pooled at her feet. She stood before him, her long hair draped over her shoulder like a cloak.

  She looked like a work of art. The colors from the lamp painted her pale skin with soft color. The ebony fall of her hair alternately hid and revealed, teasing him with glimpses of her curves.

  Hunger unlike any he’d ever known ripped through him. He’d been without a woman for too long, but that didn’t explain this response. No other woman had set his hands to shaking as they shook now.

  He ran his fingertips over Alex’s hair from shoulder to waist, teasing it open to reveal her beautifully rounded breast. He stooped to gently take the taut peak into his mouth and suckled.

  Her moan echoed to his core. He’d never felt so moved by a woman before. He’d never wanted to please a woman as much as he did Alex.

  The realization stabbed through him. Alex was different. She deserved better. She deserved more than he could offer her. But God help him, he couldn’t help himself.

  He sank to his knees, trailing kisses over her belly, exalting in every ripple and shiver that followed his touch. His tongue dove into the cleft of her navel as he eased her panties down her thighs.

  Before he could move his ministrations lower, her hands threaded through his hair and she fell to her knees, her lips covering his mouth in a ravenous kiss, unlike any he’d tasted before.

  He held her tight, chest to breasts, thigh to thigh, skin to skin. They were both on fire. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her and forget all of his pain, make her forget all of her pain.

  He stood and pulled her to her feet.

  “What?” She looked at him with wide, startled eyes. Her pupils were so dilated with desire the gray irises were virtually nonexistent.

  “Our first time isn’t going to be on the floor. We’re going to do this properly.” Further conversation was impossible, so he kissed the questions from her lips.

  He stripped the comforter from the bed and laid her in the middle of cool sheets covering the king-size mattress. He shed his pants and briefs and sat on the edge of the mattress. From the dresser drawer, he pulled a foil packet.

  His rapidly weakening control took a direct hit when she rested one hand on his thigh. He rolled the sheath into place, then stretched out next to her.

  “If I were more of a man, I’d tell you we can stop if you have any doubts about this.” He dipped his head and kissed her collarbone, tracing the fragile line to the pulse at the base of her throat. The heady fragrance of her stoked the blaze of desire racking his body. “But if we were to stop now—” he forced himself to stop, to look into her eyes and will her to see what he couldn’t say “—I think I’d probably die.”

  She smiled and trailed her fingers over his cheek in a soft caress. “So would I. Please, let’s…” Her eyes drifted shut as he ran his hand down her torso.

  He needed no more than her soft moan to know he was lost. He moved to cover her slender body with his, fitting himself to her curves and hollows, sliding into her heat.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him deep inside. For a heartbeat they lay without moving, breathing and sighing as one. Desire built until he had to move, to pull out and bury himself once more in her intimate embrace. She rose to match him, move for move, touch for touch, kiss for kiss.

  She became the center of his world, the sole focus of his being. His only goal was bringing her the ultimate joy.

  He framed her face with his hands, threading his fingers into her hair. Their gazes locked, the nonphysical contact as strong as the physical. He lost himself in the depths of her eyes, reading there what he desperately needed to find.

  Tension spiraled with each move, each touch, each soft cry.

  When her release finally took control of her body, he followed her on the journey. The world disappeared and he found what he’d never let himself seek. He found a place to belong, heaven on earth. He found home.

  It could only mean one thing.

  He was heading straight into hell.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan didn’t want to wake up. Not yet. He needed at least a decade before he’d be ready to face Alex.

  In spite of his determination, the sound of rain beating down and a low rumble of thunder pulled him from sleep.

  He shifted a little, just enough to discover the empty space next to him. A moment of relief did little to ease the remorse lying heavy on his chest.

  Making love had never felt so right or been so wrong as last night with Alex.

  He pried one eye open and registered the bright sunshine bathing the room.

  Sunshine and rain? Something’s out of whack.

  He forced both eyes open and looked directly into Ansel’s dark amber stare. That explained the rumble and a little of the weight on his chest. The cat licked Ryan’s nose with a sandpapery tongue then yawned, showing every one of its razor-sharp teeth.

  “I’ll be takin’ that as a threat.” Ryan lifted the cat off his chest and rolled to a sitting position. Alex being in the shower accounted for the “rain”. And the empty bed beside him.

  He didn’t like admitting it, but he was grateful for the momentary reprieve.

  “Come on, cat. Let’s feed you before you decide I look like breakfast.” Ryan pulled his running shorts on and padded into the kitchen. He wasn’t trying to avoid Alex. He was doing her a favor and feeding the cat.

  Liar, his conscience whispered.

  He busied himself putting fresh water out for the cat, starting the coffeepot brewing and putting a kettle of water on for Alex’s tea. Then he consulted with Ansel on which can of food to open.

  None of the tactics worked to keep his conscience quiet. He wouldn’t deny that making love with Alex had been the most pleasurable experience of his life. From her response, he was pretty confident she’d enjoyed the encounter as well.

  None of that excused the fact that he’d made love to her under false pretenses at a time when she was vulnerable.

  She deserved someone who would be there for her for the long run, someone to help her through all the minefields that were sure to crop up. Especially if she never fully recovered her memories.

  Amnesia left her exposed. She needed protection and he wasn’t the man for the job. No way in hell could a short-timer like him do much more than add on a heap more hurt.

  A gentleman didn’t take advantage of a lady like that, no matter if the pleasure was mutual. Whatever else his failings, he tried to live up to certain standards.

  Just now, he figured his mamas, all eight of them, would be mighty ashamed of him.

  THE SCENT OF FRESH COFFEE filled the air, drawing Alex to the kitchen. That’s where she found Ryan. Th
e morning sun streamed over his sculpted body, a corona of gold rimmed his sleep-tousled, sun-bleached hair. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and Ansel at his feet, happily scarfing down a plate of food.

  She wavered between wanting to capture the image of him on film and wanting to drag him back to the bedroom.

  Last night had opened her eyes to what could exist between a man and a woman when they cared for each other.

  Loved each other.

  That understanding had finally pushed its way to the foreground where she couldn’t deny what existed for her. Ryan hadn’t said anything, but his actions spoke volumes. The combination of what she knew and what she believed developed into a contentment she hadn’t felt in far too long.

  He looked at her and she read the regret in his expression. All it took was that oh-so-brief glance to douse the pleasant glow she’d held close since waking.

  She strolled across the kitchen, opened a cupboard only to realize Ryan had set out everything she needed to make tea. Maybe she was mistaken. Had she misread the look in his eyes?

  Perhaps it was just a matter of getting past the awkward first morning-after jitters. To break the ice she offered a cheery “Good morning.”

  “Mornin’.” Ryan mumbled his response. No welcoming smile, no reaching to pull her into his arms, no what-took-you-so-long kiss.

  Disappointment at his response overshadowed the hope she refused to release. The two emotions congealed into a thick lump in her stomach.

  “You beat me out here.” All she needed to do was act normal, pretend nothing had changed between them. He’d realize there was nothing to regret.

  “Your cat threatened to eat me for breakfast.” He didn’t even glance at her.

  She died a little and welcomed the excuse to reframe her attention. “He is at that awkward age when he’s more legs than sense and hungry all the time.”

  Ryan watched the gangly, adolescent feline lick the plate clean. She watched Ryan. He never glanced her way, not once.

  He didn’t need to. His feelings were abundantly clear. For him, last night had been a huge mistake.