Passionate Pregnancies: Enticed by His Forgotten Lover / Wanted by Her Lost Love / Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss

Eight

“Do you feel well enough to travel?” Rafael asked Bryony over dinner.

Bryony looked up from the sumptuous steak she was devouring to see Rafael studying the bruise on her face.

“Rafael, I’m fine.”

“Perhaps you should see an obstetrician before we leave the city.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll go see my doctor as soon as we get to the island, but I’m certainly capable of traveling. Unless you have matters to attend to here? I can go ahead of you if you can’t get away yet.”

Rafael frowned and put down his fork. “We’ll go together. It’s important we retrace all our steps and follow the same pattern we did when I was there before. Perhaps the familiarity will bring back my lost memories.”

Bryony cut another piece of her steak, but paused after she speared it with her fork. “What does your doctor say?”

Rafael became visibly uncomfortable. Even though the table they’d been seated at provided complete privacy from the other patrons, he glanced around as if the idea of anyone overhearing his personal business caused him no end of grief.

His lips pursed in distaste and then he finally said, “He thinks there’s a psychological reason behind my memory loss. If I was so happy and in love then why would I want to forget? It makes no sense.”

She was unable to control the flinch. Her fingers went numb as she realized how tightly she gripped the fork.

“I didn’t say that to hurt you,” he said in a low voice. “There’s just so much I don’t understand. I want to go back because I want to find the person I lost while I was there. The man you say you loved and who loved you is a stranger to me.”

“Apparently we’re both strangers to you,” she said quietly. “Maybe that man doesn’t exist. Maybe I imagined him.”

Rafael’s gaze dropped down her body to where her belly was hidden by the table. “But neither of us imagined a child. He or she is all too real, the one real thing in this whole situation.”

She couldn’t keep the sadness from her expression. The corners of her mouth drooped and she shoved her plate aside, her appetite gone.

“Our baby isn’t the only real thing in our relationship. My love for you was real. I held nothing back from you. I guess we won’t know whether you were real when you were with me. You deny that you could be that person. You deny it with your every breath. And I’m supposed to forget all of this denial if you suddenly remember you did and do love me.”

She dropped her hands into her lap and wound her fingers tightly together as she leaned forward.

“Tell me, Rafael, which man would I believe? The man who tells me I’m not his type and that he couldn’t possibly have loved me, or the lover who spent every night in my arms while we were on the island? No matter what you remember tomorrow, or the next day, I’ll always know that a part of you rebels at the mere thought of being with me.”

She could tell her words struck a chord with him. Discomfort darkened his features and regret simmered in his eyes. He splayed his hand out in an almost helpless gesture.

“Bryony, I …”

She gave a short, forceful shake of her head. “Don’t, Rafael. Don’t make it worse by saying you didn’t mean it. We both know you did. At least you’ve been honest. You just need to remember that you’re not the only victim in this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she knew he meant it.

He reached across the table and slipped his hand over hers. For a moment he stroked his thumb across her knuckles and then he gently squeezed.

“I really am sorry. I’m being a selfish bastard. I know this has to hurt you and that none of this is easy for you. Forgive me.”

Her heart squeezed at the sincerity in his eyes. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms and hold on for all she was worth. She wanted to whisper to him that she loved him. She wanted to beg him never to let her go. But all she could do was stare across the table in helpless frustration.

“What if you never remember?” she asked, voicing her greatest fear.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

She leaned back in her seat, slipping her hand from underneath his. The heaviness in her chest was a physical ache, one that clogged her throat and made it hard to breathe.

“What have you packed?” she asked lightly, forcing a smile.

He looked confused by the abrupt shift in conversation. “I haven’t yet.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We leave in the morning and you don’t know how long you’ll be gone. Aren’t you leaving it to the last minute?”

He grimaced. “I wasn’t sure what to pack. You mentioned things like swimwear and flip-flops.”

She laughed as some of the tension in her chest eased. “Well, it’s too cold to swim. The weather is still quite warm but the water is chilly. But we can buy you shorts and flip-flops like we did before. We can’t have you wearing suits all the time, and your expensive loafers will just get ruined.”

“I’m trusting you,” he muttered. “Since you swear I did this before.”

“And it didn’t kill you,” she teased. “When I was done with your makeover, you looked more relaxed and less like a stuffed shirt.”

“You’re implying I’m stuffy?” he asked in mock outrage.

“Oh, you were. Totally stuffy.”

“I don’t want to stand out this time. I’d like to keep my … problem … as private as possible.”

“Of course,” Bryony murmured.

He sat back in his chair and fiddled with his wineglass, though he didn’t pick it up to drink. He turned in the direction of the band playing soft, mellow jazz and then back to her, his expression thoughtful.

“Tell me, Bryony. Did we ever dance?”

Caught off guard by the question, she shook her head mutely.

He stood and held his hand out to her. “Then dance with me now.”

Mesmerized by the husk in his tone, she slipped her hand into his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. He led her onto the dance floor and slid his palm over her back as he pulled her into his embrace.

She closed her eyes and sighed as she melted against him. His warmth wrapped tantalizingly around her and his scent brushed over her nose. She inhaled deeply, holding his essence in the deepest part of her.

Oh, how she’d missed him. Even when she’d hated him, when she’d thought the absolute worst, she’d lain awake at night remembering the nights in her bed when they’d made love with the music of the ocean filling the sky.

She was acutely aware of him as they swayed in time to the sultry tones. He cupped her to him possessively, as if telling the world she belonged to him. It was nice to get lost in the moment and her daydreams.

As he turned her, she tilted her neck and gazed up at him as he tucked her hand between them, his thumb caressing the pulse at her wrist.

“You are an interesting dilemma, Bryony.”

She raised her brows. “Dilemma?”

“Conundrum. Puzzle. One of the many things I can’t seem to figure out lately.”

She cocked her head to the side in question.

“I swear I have no memory of you. I look at you and draw a blank. But when you get close to me, when I touch you …” His voice dropped to a mere whisper and it sent a shiver racing down her spine. “I feel as though …”

“As though what?” she whispered.

He had a slightly bewildered look on his face as if he were searching for just the right word. Then finally he sighed and stared down at her, his gaze stroking over her skin.

“We fit,” he said simply. “I have no explanation for it, but it just feels … right.”

Her heart sped up. Hope pulsed in her veins, the first real hope she’d had since hearing his fantastic story. She didn’t know whether to squeeze him or kiss him, so she stood there as they swayed with the music and smiled so brilliantly that her cheeks hurt.

“Amazing that such a simple thing could make you so happy,” he murmured.

“We do fit,” she said, her voice catching as her throat throbbed with a growing ache. She reached up to frame his face and then she leaned up on tiptoe to brush her lips across his.

She meant it to be a small gesture of affection. Maybe a reminder of what they’d once shared. Or maybe to just reaffirm the sensation to him that they fit. But he didn’t allow her to stop there.

Cupping his hand to the back of her head, he wrapped his other arm around her waist and hauled her up until her lips were in line with his.

There was nothing tentative about his kiss. No hesitancy as he attempted to find his way back. It was as if they’d never been apart. He kissed her like he’d kissed her so many times before, only this time … There was something different she couldn’t quite put her finger on. More depth. More emotion. It wasn’t just sexy or passionate. It was … tender.

Like he was apologizing for all the hurt. For the separation and misunderstanding. For what he couldn’t remember.

She sighed into his mouth, sadness and joy mixing and bubbling up in her heart until she was overwhelmed by it all. When he finally drew away, his eyes were dark, his body trembled against hers, and as he eased her down, his hand slid up her arms to cup her face.

“Part of me remembers you, Bryony. There’s a part of me that feels like I’ve come home when I kiss you. That has to mean something.”

She nodded, unable to speak as emotion clogged her throat. She swallowed several times and then finally found her voice.

“We’ll find our way back, Rafe. I won’t let you go so easily. When I thought you didn’t want me, that you’d played me, it was easy to say never again. But now that I know what happened, I won’t give up without a fight. Somehow I’ll make you remember. It’s not just your happiness at stake. It’s mine, too.”

He smiled and stroked a thumb over one cheekbone. “So fierce. You fascinate me, Bryony. I’m beginning to see how it could be true that I was so transfixed by you from the start.”

Then he leaned down and kissed her again, the room around them forgotten. “I want to remember. Help me remember.”

“You’ll get it back,” she said fiercely. “We’ll get it back. Together.”

Nine

The flight back to Houston was much better than her trip to New York. On the way she’d been squeezed between two men who she swore had to be football players. She hadn’t been able to move and had spent the entire time being miserable.

She and Rafael occupied the first two seats in first class, and once they’d taken off, she’d reclined without guilt, since there was plenty of room between the rows.

By the time they landed in Houston, she actually felt rested and ready for the drive from the airport.

Apparently Rafael had ideas of having a driver take them to the island.

“My car is here. There’s no reason for us not to take it,” she insisted as they stood in baggage claim.

“We would both be more comfortable if you let me see to the travel arrangements.”

“And what am I supposed to do without my car? We’ll need it on the island. It’s small but everything isn’t in walking distance.”

As their luggage piled up, Rafael sighed. “All right. We’ll take your car. But it’s senseless for you to drive when we’ve already been traveling half the day.”

She rolled her eyes and bit her lip to keep from making a remark about spoiled men.

She grabbed a cart for their luggage and Rafael piled it up and pushed it as she led him to the parking garage.

“Where is the damn parking lot?” he demanded. “In Galveston?”

“It’s a bit of a walk,” she admitted. “But it’s all indoors and then we’ll take the elevator to the top level.”

“Why did you park on the roof?”

She shrugged. “I just kept going around and around and then suddenly I was on the roof. It’s the same as parking anywhere else.”

He shook his head as they trudged down the long corridor. When they finally got to the elevator, Bryony breathed in relief. A few moments later, they were on the roof and she took out her keys to remotely unlock the car.

“What the …”

She cast him a puzzled look.

“That’s your car?” he asked.

She looked toward the MINI Cooper and nodded. “Is something wrong?”

“You expect to fit me and the luggage in this tin can?”

“Quit being so grumpy,” she said mildly. “We’ll manage. It does have a luggage rack. I’m sure I have a bungee cord in the trunk.”

“Who the hell carries around bungee cords?”

She laughed. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

They filled the trunk and then piled suitcases into the back until the bags were stacked to the roof of the car.

“There,” she said triumphantly as she shut the door. “We didn’t even have to use the bungee cords.”

“Unfortunately we didn’t push the passenger seat back before we stored all the luggage,” he said dryly.

Bryony winced when she saw him fold his legs to get into the front seat. His knees were pushed up into the dash and he didn’t look at all comfortable.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she got into the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t thinking. No one who ever rides in my car has such long legs.”

“How do you plan to drive the baby around after he or she is born?”

Bryony reversed out of the parking space and then drove toward the exit. “In a car seat, of course.”

“And where do you think the car seat will fit in here? Even if you crammed it in, if you got into a wreck, neither of you would likely survive. Someone could run right over you in this thing and probably not even realize it.”

“It’s what I have, Rafael. There’s not a lot I can do about it. Now let’s talk about something else.”

“How far of a drive is it?”

She sighed. “An hour to Galveston from the airport. Then we take a ferry to Moon Island. It’s about a half-hour ferry ride so we should be there in under two hours barring any traffic issues.”

It was a bad thing to say. Thirty minutes later, they were completely stalled on I-45. Bryony cursed under her breath as Rafael fidgeted in his seat. Or at least tried to fidget. He couldn’t move much and he looked as if he was ready to get out and walk. It would probably be faster since traffic hadn’t moved so much as an inch in the past five minutes.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she said when she saw him turn toward her. “We should have left my car at the airport. Yeah, I know that now, but really, traffic jams are a fact of life in Houston.”

A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “I was actually going to say it’s a good thing I went to the bathroom before we left the airport.”

She heaved a sigh. “Just be grateful you aren’t pregnant.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Want me to take over?”

She shook her head. “You’d never be able to drive with your knees jammed to your chin. Let’s find something to talk about. Music would just irritate me right now.”

He seemed to think for a moment and then he said, “Tell me what you do. I mean, do you work? You said you took care of your grandmother but I wasn’t sure if that was a fulltime task or not.”

Bryony smiled. “No. Mamaw is still quite self-sufficient. I wouldn’t say I take care of her as much as we take care of each other. She’s been sicker lately, though. As for what I do, I’m sort of a Jill of all trades. I do a little bit of everything. I’m the go-to gal on the island for whatever needs doing.”

He looked curiously at her.

“Basically I’m a consultant if you want a posh name for my job. I’m consulted on all manner of things, though nothing you’d probably think was legitimate,” she added with a laugh.

“You have me curious now. Just what exactly are some of the things you do?”

“One day a week I take care of the mayor’s correspondence. He’s an older gentleman, and he’s not fond of computers. Or the internet for that matter. He likes old-school things like actual newspapers, print magazines, watching the news on the local channel instead of surfing to CNN. That sort of thing. He doesn’t even have cable if you can believe it.”

“And this guy got elected?”

Bryony laughed. “I think you’ll find that our island is pretty tolerant of being old-fashioned. It’s a bit of a throwback. While you can certainly avail yourself of all the modern conveniences such as internet, cable TV and the like, a large percentage of our population is quite happy in their technology-challenged world.”

Rafael shook his head. “I’m shuddering as you speak. How can anyone be happy living in the Dark Ages?”

“Oh, please. You enjoyed it well enough yourself once I finally weaned you off your BlackBerry and your laptop. You went a whole week without using either. A week!”

“Surely a record,” he muttered.

“Oh, look, traffic is moving!”

She put the MINI Cooper into gear as cars began to crawl forward. She checked her watch to see that they’d already lost an hour; it would be close to dark by the time they arrived on the island.

Still, the delay couldn’t dim her excitement. It was foolish of her to get her hopes up, but she wanted so badly to relive her time with Rafael on the island. Take him through all the steps they’d taken before.

She wanted him to remember. Because if he didn’t, things would never be the same for them. He’d resisted the idea of being with her. Her only hope was for him to remember and then …

Then just as she’d told him the night before, she’d forever have to live with the fact that at least some part of him recoiled at the idea of them being lovers.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She grimaced as she navigated her way down the interstate. “They aren’t worth that much.”

“Then don’t think them.”

To her surprise, he leaned over, curled his hand around her nape and massaged lightly, threading his fingers through her thick hair. It was tempting to close her eyes and lean her head all the way back but then they’d have a wreck and never get off this damn interstate.

“I’m nervous, Rafael,” she admitted.

She bit her lip, wondering if she shouldn’t just shut up, but she’d always had this habit of being completely honest. It wasn’t in her makeup to shy away from the bald truth, no matter how uncomfortable. She always figured if people talked more about their issues then there wouldn’t be so many issues.

Rafael—the old Rafael—hadn’t minded her speaking her mind. They’d enjoyed long conversations and she’d always told him what was occupying her thoughts.

But now, she had a newfound reservation against being so forthright. She hated feeling so unsure of herself.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked softly.

“You. Me. Us. What if this doesn’t work? I feel like this is my only chance and that if you don’t remember, I’ve lost you.”

“Regardless of whether I regain my memory, we still have a child to think about. I’m not going to disappear just because I can’t remember the details of his conception.”

“You sound like you’ve accepted that I’m carrying your child.”