“You’re crazy, Rizzoli,” he said. “Certifiably insane and headed for the funny farm.”
Megan was knocking him for a loop, that was for sure. Their lovemaking had been far beyond the ordinary, fueled by fierce emotions of possessiveness and protectiveness, and the knowledge that he’d stand between Megan and harm’s way at any cost.
He cared for this woman with a depth of feeling he’d never experienced before. Oh, yeah, he was definitely nuts. He didn’t even know who Megan was, what her values and opinions were, her likes and dislikes.
Damn it, he didn’t do things like this. He was steady on his emotional feet, especially when dealing with women. He never allowed them to get too close, to start to stake a claim, begin looking for a commitment he was in no position to make.
But with Megan? Hell, he was going off the deep end so fast it was making his head spin. He had to get a grip, put the skids on his escalating emotions now. Right now.
“So get it together,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror.
Maybe it wasn’t Megan who had him behaving so out of character. Maybe it was the circumstances surrounding this woman who had appeared so suddenly in his life that were throwing him off-kilter.
That Megan had no past and he, for all practical purposes, had no future was creating a sizzling intensity to their now. Everything—every thought, every feeling—was stepped up, magnified.
Well, it was time to come down to earth, to burst the rosy, sensual bubble surrounding him and Megan.
He was going to walk into the house, sit her down and tell her the truth. The man who at some point in her life had placed that wedding band on her finger, the man she somehow knew she no longer loved, had physically abused her. The bruised imprints of those fingers on her arm were from that scum’s grip, not from Ben rescuing her.
Their now—their glorious, unbelievably fantastic now—would become stark, and real, and ugly.
“Gotta do it,” Ben muttered. “Damn.”
He pulled into his driveway, turned off the ignition and got out of the vehicle. Moments later he entered the front door of the house.
“Megan?” he called.
Megan appeared from behind the half-wall concealing the kitchen. She was wearing her jeans, socks and one of his T-shirts, a bright purple Phoenix Suns basketball shirt that fell to the middle of her thighs.
And on her face was the loveliest smile Ben had ever seen. He was consumed by a gentle warmth that touched his mind, his heart, his very soul.
They met in the middle of the living room, reaching for each other, seeking, then finding lips in a searing kiss that fanned the embers of desire still simmering from the previous night into licking flames of passion.
Ben ended the kiss slowly, reluctantly, but kept his arms wrapped tightly around Megan’s slender body.
“You’re home,” she said softly.
“I’m home,” he said, looking directly into her blue eyes.
“I borrowed your shirt.”
“You look cute as a button.”
“I made lunch. Are you hungry?”
He chuckled. “That’s a loaded question, ma’am,” he said, smiling at her.
“So it is,” she said, matching his smile. “Well, I’ll try again. Would you care for a sandwich, Dr. Rizzoli?”
“Sounds dandy, Ms. Megan.”
Megan frowned. “I haven’t remembered anything, Ben. Nothing.”
“Don’t rush it. You’re doing fine.”
Megan smiled again. “I’m so glad to see you. Come tell me all about your morning while we eat lunch.”
Ben circled her shoulders with one arm, tucking her close to his side as they headed for the kitchen.
And he’d tell her the raw truth about her life, he thought. Later. He’d do it later. It wasn’t something to discuss while having a meal. Then they needed to go shopping to buy her some clothes.
Tonight. Yeah, tonight would be better. They’d sit in front of the soothing fire and he’d quietly explain what he knew about her.
Until then?
For a few more stolen hours, it would just be the two of them... and their now.
Chapter Four
Two hours later, Ben realized that he had never before gone shopping with a woman. It was a totally intriguing and fascinating adventure. Megan cheerfully explained her acceptance, or rejection, of various articles of clothing, but to him her rationale made little sense.
The pink sport top was pretty, but the blue one was better because it had one minuscule flower embroidered on the pocket. The green won out over the yellow, due to the added touch of a white waistband. Pastel stripes beat vivid checks, but an equally bright red-white-and-blue number was absolutely perfect.
“I’m really getting into this,” Ben said, holding up a purple top. “Here we go.”
“I don’t want to spend so much of your money,” Megan said.
“Hey,” he said gently, “don’t worry about it. We don’t know how long it will take for your memory to return. You need clothes to wear in the meantime.” He smiled. “Besides, I’m having fun. How do you like this purple thing?”
“It’s nice, but—”
“Sold. You need another pair of jeans, too. You know, one in the wash, one on the body. How about a dress? I’ll take you out to dinner at Hamilton House. Yep, you need a dress.”
“But—”
“Shh.” Ben dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Don’t stress. This is one of the most enjoyable afternoons I’ve had in a long time.”
Megan laughed and threw up her hands. “Okay, okay. You are so-o-o stubborn.”
“That’s just one of the things we Italians are known for,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her.
Megan brushed her lips over Ben’s. “I’m very aware of that, Dr. Rizzoli. Delightfully so.”
“Forget shopping. We’re going home and locking the door.”
Megan laughed and added the purple top to the growing array lying across one of her arms.
It was late afternoon when Megan finally stood her ground and refused to look at another article of clothing.
“Well, darn,” Ben said. “I was really on a roll. Did you notice how I figured out what you like and don’t life? You didn’t reject the last three choices I made.”
Megan frowned. “Don’t you think it’s strange that I have such strong opinions about clothes? I guess I remember what my tastes are.”
“Amnesia is strange stuff, my sweet. There are no hard-and-fast medical rules about it. Let’s put all these packages in my car, then I’ll buy you an ice cream sundae at Hamilton House. You can meet Andrea and Brandon, too.”
When they were settled in the vehicle, Megan reached over and placed one hand on Ben’s forearm before he turned the key in the ignition.
“Ben, wait,” she said. “Instead of going for ice cream, don’t you think we should stop by the police department, or the sheriff’s office, or whatever, to inquire if anyone has filed a missing person’s report about me?”
Ben started the vehicle. “I took care of that before I came home for lunch. I called on Sheriff Cable Montana, the new heartthrob of Prescott, and brought him up to date on your situation. He didn’t have a missing person’s report on anyone named Megan.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you saw the sheriff?” she said, frowning.
Ben shrugged. “It slipped my mind. We’re to keep him informed about what you remember, and he’ll let us know if he receives an inquiry over the wires. I don’t think Cable needs to know you like funny little flowers on shirt pockets, though.”
“It’s not a funny flower,” Megan said with an indignant little sniff. “It’s pretty.”
“Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear. What kind of ice cream do you want, dear?”
Megan dissolved in a fit of laughter.
That was close, Ben thought, driving out of the mall parking lot. He didn’t want to get into an in-depth discussion with Megan regarding what he’d told Cable. No
way. They were having such a good time together shopping for Megan’s clothes. He didn’t want anything to put a damper on these hours.
He’d stick to his decision to tell Megan the truth about those bruises on her arm tonight. He sure as hell didn’t want to, but to delay it any longer would make him guilty of lying by omission.
He didn’t want to lie to Megan, had no intention of doing one thing to hurt her. She was too special, too rare, too wonderful.
And although she wasn’t aware of it yet, she’d suffered enough because of a man. He wasn’t about to cause her any more pain, either physically, or emotionally.
What about you, Rizzoli? his mind questioned suddenly. How would he feel when Megan walked out of his life? She’d become so important to him so quickly. How would he deal with the emptiness, the loneliness, the long hours of the night when Megan was gone?
He wasn’t going to dwell on that now. Not yet. Next on the agenda was ice cream at Hamilton House, and that was as far as his thoughts were going to travel.
A soft “Oh-h-h” escaped from Megan’s lips when they entered the lobby of Hamilton House.
To step into Hamilton House was to be transported back to the turn of the century, the Victorian motif authentic down to the most minute detail.
A cobblestone path with old-fashioned lampposts fronted a half dozen, small specialty shops that offered everything from flowers and candy to women’s lingerie.
“It’s exquisite,” Megan said, her gaze sweeping over the expanse. “I love it.”
“See that shop called Sleeping Beauty?” Ben said. “That’s Janice’s baby.”
“Janice,” Megan said thoughtfully. “Let’s see. She’s married to Taylor Sinclair, who is one of your boyhood friends who helped you torment the town.”
“Hey,” Ben said, laughing. “I told you...we weren’t bad, we were merely busy.”
Megan rolled her eyes heavenward.
“Yo, handsome,” a voice said. “You need a haircut, but then you always do.”
Ben smiled as two elderly women approached. They were the same height, had matching features, but one was dressed in a sedate, high-necked gray ensemble, while the other wore bright red taffeta. They stopped in front of Megan and Ben.
“If I kept my hair in shape, Aunt Charity,” Ben said, “you wouldn’t have anything to nag me about.”
“Sure I would,” Aunt Charity, the wearer of the red dress, said. “I’d just pick something else on the long, long list.”
“Figures,” Ben said, chuckling. “Aunt Charity, Aunt Prudence, may I present Megan? Megan, these two ladies are Brandon’s great-aunts, the Hamilton twins.”
“Hello,” Megan said, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance,” Aunt Prudence said.
“So, this is Megan,” Aunt Charity said, beaming. “I just heard the news that you two were smooching in a store at the mall.”
“Oh, my gracious,” Megan said, a warm flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.
“Guilty,” Ben said, laughing.
“Charity, dear,” Aunt Prudence said, “that is really none of our business.”
“It certainly is, Pru,” Charity said. “Ben is one of our boys. Everything he does is our business.”
“Always has been,” Ben said, “and always will be, I imagine.”
“You betcha, hotshot,” Aunt Charity said. “So, tell me, Megan, have you remembered anything else other than your first name?”
“How did you...” Megan started.
“I know everything that’s important around here,” Aunt Charity said.
“Don’t fight it, Megan,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You’d lose the battle.”
Megan laughed. “I can see that.” Her smile faded. “No, I haven’t regained any more of my memory yet, Miss...um...Mrs.—”
“Call me Aunt Charity.”
“And I’m Aunt Pru.”
“Bingo,” Charity said. “You’re with Ben. You’re one of the family now. Don’t worry about your amnesia. For all you know, you’re better off without all the old baggage you’ve forgotten.”
Aunt Charity had no idea how right she was, Ben thought.
Before Megan could respond further, a couple waved from across the lobby, then hurried toward the group.
Goodness, Megan thought, more people to meet. These two were certainly a good-looking pair, and they were smiling so warmly.
The man was tall and handsome, well-built, and he had dark hair like Ben’s but lacked Ben’s naturally tawny skin due to his Italian heritage.
The woman was lovely. She had dark brown hair worn in a smooth, blunt cut to just above her shoulders. Her hair was shiny and swung gracefully around her pretty face. And she was obviously pregnant. How blessed she was to be expecting a baby.
A baby, Megan’s mind echoed, causing her to frown. It had never occurred to her that she might be a mother. No, no, that didn’t set well. She would know if she had a child. She just would.
What she did realize, somehow, was that she had a deep yearning to have a baby, a miracle. Yes, oh, yes, she wanted a baby.
“Hey, how are you?” the man said as the couple reached them. “Howdy, Ben, and you must be Megan. Welcome to Hamilton House. I’m Brandon Hamilton and this is my wife, Andrea.” He pointed to Andrea’s stomach. “And that’s the little Hamilton we’re excited about. The crummy part is that I have to wait four more months before I can see and hold her.”
“Or him,” Andrea said, laughing. “Ignore him, Megan. Brandon is convinced we’re having a girl. He’s also acting like this is the only baby to be born around here who is of any importance. Just smile, nod and humor him.”
Brandon and Andrea, as well as Aunt Charity and Aunt Prudence, were absolutely delightful, Megan thought. How lucky Ben was to be surrounded by people like this.
Well, for now, she was family, too, and she intended to savor the feeling, wrap it around her like a comforting blanket.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Megan said. “Ben has told me some wild tales about your boyhood days here in Prescott, Brandon.”
“They’re all true,” Aunt Charity said. “What a handful they were—Ben, Brandon, Taylor and Jennifer. Always on the move and getting into trouble. It’s a wonder we all survived.”
“They were dear, sweet children,” Aunt Pru said.
“Thank you. Aunt Pru.” Ben said. “As I explained to Megan, we weren’t bad, we were simply busy.”
“Yes, dear,” Aunt Pru said.
“Ha!” Aunt Charity said. “You were rotten to the core, all of you. You turned out to be halfway decent adults, though, I’ll give you that.”
“‘Halfway decent adults’?” Brandon said, raising his eyebrows. “Thanks a bunch, Aunt Charity.”
“Wouldn’t want you to get too full of yourself, big boy,” Aunt Charity said.
Everyone laughed and Megan was consumed once again by a gentle warmth, a sense of belonging, a rightness about standing there as part of the family.
She might not have a past at the moment, but her present—the now—was rich, and full, and wonderful. And at the very center of it was Ben.
“We’ve been shopping for clothes for Megan,” Ben said. “And now we’re ready for some ice cream.”
“Yes, we heard you were shopping,” Andrea said, smiling. “And that you were obviously enjoying yourselves.”
“Smooching,” Aunt Charity said. “That’s what they were doing. They were smooching in the mall.”
“I know,” Andrea said. “Good for them.”
“Right,” Ben said. “Except the whole town is buzzing about it.”
“Of course they are,” Brandon said, shrugging. “That’s normal for around here.” He paused. “Have you spoken to Sheriff Montana about a missing person’s report?”
Ben nodded. “He’s up to date on the situation.”
“Enough yakking,” Aunt Charity said. “I heard ice cream mentioned and I’m
ready for some. Let’s all go pig out.”
“You’re on,” Ben said. “My treat.”
As the group started toward the hotel dining room, Prudence placed her hand on Charity’s arm to slow her twin’s step.
“Oh, Charity,” Prudence said quietly. “Isn’t it grand to see Ben so happy, the smile actually reaching his eyes? He’s seemed so troubled for months now, but today, with Megan, he’s like the Ben we know he can be.”
Charity nodded. “That’s true, but it can’t last. Megan has amnesia, remember? She has a life somewhere, folks she belongs with. I fear that our Ben is headed for heartbreak, Pru.”
“Oh, dear,” Prudence said. “Oh, dear, dear.”
“Well, don’t fret,” Charity said. “Forget I said all that gloomy stuff. None of us can predict the future, so there’s no sense in stewing about it. Right now our Ben is smiling, and it’s a fine sight to behold.”
“That it is,” Pru said. “That it is.”
Having consumed huge ice cream sundaes at Hamilton House so close to dinnertime, Megan and Ben didn’t go in search of something to eat until nine o’clock that night.
Upon returning to the house, Megan put her new clothes in the dresser and closet in the guest room, but they both knew she would be sleeping with Ben in his bed.
They chatted about their outing, and Megan went on and on regarding the wonderful people she’d met, telling Ben how fortunate he was to have such marvelous friends.
“They liked you, too,” he said, opening the refrigerator and staring at the offerings it held. “How about some cheese, fruit and wine? We can pretend we’re artists or some such thing.”
“That sounds fine,” Megan said. “I only want a light snack because I’m still full from that delicious ice cream.” She paused. “Artists...I wonder what it is I do for a living? If I have a job, a career? If I do, surely someone is concerned because I didn’t show up for work.”
She waved one hand dismissively in the air.
“Oh, never mind,” she said. “This has been such a lovely day, I don’t want to spoil it by dwelling on what I don’t know about myself.”
The Most Eligible M.D. (The Bachelor Bet #3) Page 5