Passionate reunions rule in these two fan-favorite stories from New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks!

Enticed by His Forgotten Lover

Bryony Morgan fell hard for hotelier Rafael de Luca. But once he got her beachfront property, he disappeared. Now she’s pregnant and in New York wanting answers. That may have to wait, because Rafael has selective amnesia following a crash. Maybe they need to return to the island where they met and relive their unforgettable nights.

Wanted by Her Lost Love

Despite his fiancée’s betrayal, developer Ryan Beardsley provided for Kelly Christian when he sent her packing. So he’s livid to find her working in a diner, desperate and pregnant. Regardless of whether the baby is his, he demands that she return to New York with him. For the baby’s sake. Or maybe because the woman’s as irresistible as ever…

Praise for #1 New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks

“Banks has taken the overplayed amnesia theme and given it a delightful twist, while throwing in plenty of heat and a hero who discovers the man he really is out of the wreckage of the one he’d been.”

—RT Book Reviews on Enticed by His Forgotten Lover

“Be prepared for an emotional, heart-wrenching roller-coaster ride…Readers will be swept along in this whirlpool of love, jealousy, betrayal and forgiveness.”

—RT Book Reviews on Wanted by Her Lost Love

“The author shows her characters’ change of heart very well, and that makes it work.”

—All About Romance on Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss

“I can’t wait to read more from Maya Banks!”

—Fresh Fiction

“Undone by Her Tender Touch is an emotionally packed power house! A passionate love story.”

—HarlequinJunkie.com

“Wanted by Her Lost Love is very emotional story.”

—LoveToReadForFun.com

MAYA BANKS

New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks lives in southeast Texas with her husband and three children. When she’s not writing, she loves to hunt and fish, bum on the beach, play poker and travel. Escaping into the pages of a book is something she’s loved to do since she was a child. Now she crafts her own worlds and characters and enjoys spending as much time with them as possible. She loves to hear from her readers and can be found on Facebook, or you can follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/maya_banks). Her website, mayabanks.com, is where you can find up-to-date information on all of Maya’s current and upcoming releases.

Unforgettable
Enticed by His Forgotten Lover
Wanted by Her Lost Love
Maya Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Contents

ENTICED BY HIS FORGOTTEN LOVER

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

WANTED BY HER LOST LOVE

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Enticed by His Forgotten Lover

To Jane Litte because she loves this trope above all others. ;)

To Charles Griemsman for all his words of encouragement and his never-ending patience.

Chapter 1

Rafael de Luca had been in worse situations before, and he’d no doubt be in worse in the future. He could handle it. These people would never make him sweat. They’d never know that he had absolutely no memory of any of them.

He surveyed the crowded ballroom with grim tolerance, sipping at the tasteless wine to cover the fact that he was uneasy. It was only by force of will that he’d managed to last this long. His head was pounding a vicious cadence that made it hard to down the swallow of wine without his stomach heaving it back up.

“Rafe, you can pack it in,” Devon Carter murmured next to him. “You’ve put in enough time. No one suspects a thing.”

Rafael swiveled to see his three friends—Devon, Ryan Beardsley and Cameron Hollingsworth—standing protectively at his back. There was significance there. Always at his back. Ever since they were freshmen in college, determined to make their mark on the business world.

They had come when he was lying in the hospital, a yawning black hole in his memory. They hadn’t coddled him. Quite the opposite. They’d been complete bastards. He was still grateful for that.

“I’ve been told I never leave a party early,” Rafe said as he tipped the wine toward his mouth again. As soon as the aroma wafted through his nostrils, he lowered the glass, changing his mind. What he wouldn’t give for a bloody painkiller.

He’d refused any medication. He despised how out of control painkillers made him feel. But right now, he’d gladly take a few and pass out for several hours. Maybe then he’d wake up without the god-awful pain in his temples.

Cam’s lips twisted in a half snarl. “Who gives a damn what you typically do? It’s your party. Tell them all to—”

Ryan held up his hand. “They’re important business associates, Cam. We want their money, remember?”

Cam scowled as he scanned the room.

“Who needs a security team with the three of you around?” Rafael drawled. He joked, but he was grateful for people he could trust. There was no one else he’d admit his memory loss to.

Devon leaned in quickly and said in a low voice, “The man approaching is Quenton Ramsey the third. His wife’s name is Marcy. He’s already confirmed for the Moon Island deal.”

Rafael nodded and took a step away from the shelter of his friends and smiled warmly at the approaching couple. A lot rode on making sure their investors didn’t get nervous. Rafael and his business partners had located a prime spot for their resort—a tiny island off the coast of Texas just across the bay from Galveston. The land was his. Now all they had to do was build the hotel and keep their investors happy.

“Quenton, Marcy, it’s wonderful to see you both again. And may I say how lovely you look tonight, Marcy. Quenton is a very lucky man.”

The older woman’s cheeks flushed with pleasure as Rafael took her hand and brought it to his lips.

He nodded politely and pretended interest in the couple, but his nape was prickling again, and he squelched the urge to rub it. His head was lowered as if he were hanging on to every word, but his gaze rapidly took in the room, searching for the source of his unease.

At first his gaze flickered past her but he yanked his attention back to the woman standing across the room. Her stare bore holes through him. Unflinching and steady even when his eyes locked with hers.

It was hard for him to discern why he was so arrested by her. He knew he generally preferred tall, leggy blondes. He was a total sucker for baby blues and soft, pale skin.

This woman was petite, even in heels, and had a creamy olive complexion. A wealth of inky black curls cascaded over her shoulders and her eyes were equally dark.

She looked at him as if she’d already judged him and found him lacking. He’d never seen her before in his life. Or had he?

He cursed the gaping hole in his memory. He remembered nothing of the weeks before his accident four months ago and had gaps in his memory preceding the weeks that he remembered nothing of. It was all so…random. Selective amnesia. It was complete and utter bull. No one got amnesia except hysterical women in bad soap operas. His physician suggested that there was a psychological reason for the missing pieces of his memory. Rafael hadn’t appreciated such a suggestion. He wasn’t crazy. Who the hell wanted to lose their memory?

He remembered Dev, Cam and Ryan. Every moment of the past decade. Their years in college. Their success in business. He remembered most of the people who worked for him. Most. But not all, which caused him no end of stress in his offices. Especially since he was trying to close a resort development deal that could make him and his partners millions.

Now he was stuck not remembering who half his investors were and he couldn’t afford to lose anyone at this stage of the game.

The woman was still staring at him, but she’d made no move to approach him. Her eyes had grown colder the longer their gazes held, and her hand tightened perceptibly on her small clutch.

“Excuse me,” he murmured to the Ramseys. With a smooth smile, he disengaged himself from the group who’d assembled around him and discreetly made his way in the direction of his mystery woman.

His security team followed at a short distance, but he ignored them. They didn’t shadow him for fear of his safety as much as his partners feared it getting out that he’d lost his memory. The security team was an annoyance he was unused to, but they kept people at arm’s length, which served him well at the moment.

The woman didn’t pretend to be coy. She stared straight at him and as he approached, her chin thrust upward in a gesture of defiance that intrigued him.

For a moment he stood in front of her, studying the delicate lines of her face and wondering if in fact this was their first meeting. Surely he would have remembered.

“Excuse me, but have we met?” he asked in his smoothest voice, one that he knew to be particularly effective on women.

Likely she’d titter and then deny such a meeting. Or she’d blatantly lie and try to convince him that they’d spent a wonderful night in bed. Which he knew couldn’t be true, because she wasn’t his type.

His gaze settled over the generous swell of her breasts pushed up by the empire waist of her black cocktail dress. The rest of the dress fell in a swirl to her knees and twitched with sudden impatience.

She did none of the things he’d supposed. When he glanced back up at her face, he saw fury reflected in the dark pools of her eyes.

“Met? Have we met?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he felt each word like the crack of a whip. “You sorry bastard!”

Before he could process the shock of her outburst she nailed him with a right hook. He stumbled back, holding his nose.

“Son of a—”

Before he could demand to know if she’d lost her damn mind, one of his guards stepped between him and the woman, and in the confusion accidentally sent her reeling backward. She stumbled and went down on one knee, her hand automatically flying to the folds of her dress.

It was then, as she cupped her belly, that the realization hit him. The folds had hidden the gentle curve of her body. Had hidden her pregnancy and the evidence of a child.

His guard went to roughly haul her to her feet.

“No!” Rafael roared. “She’s pregnant. Do not hurt her!”

His guard stepped back, his startled gaze going to Rafael. The woman wasted no time scrambling to her feet. Her eyes flashing, she turned and ran down the marble hallway, her heels tapping a loud staccato as she fled.

Rafael stared at her retreating figure, too stunned to do or say anything. The last time she’d looked at him, it wasn’t fury he’d seen. It wasn’t the fiery anger that prompted her to hit him. No, he’d seen tears and hurt. Somehow, he’d hurt this woman and damned if he knew how.

The vicious ache in his head forgotten, he hurried down the hallway after her. He burst from the hotel lobby, and when he reached the steps leading down to the busy streets, he saw two shoes sparkling in the moonlight, the silvery glitter twinkling at him. Mocking him.

He bent and picked up the strappy sandals and then he frowned. A pregnant woman had no business wearing heels this high. What if she’d tripped and fallen? Why the devil had she run? It certainly seemed as if she wanted a confrontation with him, but at first opportunity, she’d fled.

At least she’d had the common sense to ditch them so she wasn’t running down some street on a pair of toothpicks.

“What the hell is going on, Rafe?” Cam demanded as he hurried up behind him.

In fact, his entire security team, along with Cam, Ryan and Devon, had followed him from the hotel into the crisp autumn air. Now they gathered around him and they looked as though they were concerned. About him.

He blew out his breath in frustration and then shoved the pair of sparkly, ultra-feminine shoes at Ramon, his head of security.

“Find the woman who wore these shoes.”

“What would you like me to do with her when I find her?” Ramon asked in a sober voice that told Rafael he’d definitely find the woman in short order. Ramon didn’t typically fail in any task Rafael set him to.

Rafael shook his head. “You aren’t to do anything. Report back to me. I’ll handle the situation.”

He was treated to a multitude of frowns.

“I don’t like it, Rafe,” Ryan said. “This screams setup. It’s not impossible that your memory loss hasn’t already been leaked to the press or even a few confidential sources who haven’t yet gone wide with it. A woman could manipulate you in a thousand ways by using it against you.”

“Yes, she could,” Rafael said calmly. “There’s something about this woman that bugs me, though.”

Cam’s brow lifted in that imperious way that intimidated so many people. “Do you recognize her? Is she someone you knew?”

Rafael frowned. “I don’t know. Yet. But I’m going to find out.”

* * *

Bryony Morgan stepped from the shower, wrapped a towel around her head and then pulled on a robe. Even a warm shower hadn’t stopped the rapid thump of her pulse. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to let go of her rage.

Have we met?

His question replayed over and over until she wanted to throw something. Preferably at him.

How could she have been so stupid? She wasn’t typically one to lose her mind over a good-looking man. She’d been immune to a good many with charm and wit.

But from the time Rafael de Luca had stepped onto her island, he’d been it for her. No fighting. No resisting. He was the entire package. Perfection in those uptight business suits he wore. Oh, she’d managed to get them off of him. By the time he left the island, his pilot hadn’t even recognized him.

He’d gone from a sober, uptight, type A personality to laid-back, relaxed and well vacationed.

And in love.

She closed her eyes against the sudden surge of pain that swamped her.

He obviously hadn’t been in love. Or anything else. He came. He saw. And he conquered. She was just too hopelessly naive and too in love herself to consider his true motives.

That may well have been the case, but it didn’t mean he was going to get away scot-free with his lies and deception. She didn’t care what she had to do, he wasn’t going to develop the land she’d sold him into some ginormous tourist mecca and turn the entire island into some playground for bored, wealthy jet-setters.

It had taken all her courage to crash his party tonight, but once she’d learned the purpose—a gathering of his potential investors for the project he planned to ruin her land with—she’d been determined to confront him. Right there in their midst. Daring him to lie to her when the entire room knew of his plans.

She hadn’t counted on him denying that he’d ever met her. But then how better to paint her as the village idiot? Or some crazy do-gooder granola bar out to halt “progress.”

The force of just how wrong she’d been threatened to flatten her. She sighed heavily and shook her head. She had to calm down or her blood pressure was going to skyrocket.

Slowly she unclenched her jaw. Her teeth were ground together with enough force to break them.

Where was room service? She was starving. She rubbed her belly apologetically and made a conscious effort to let all the anger and stress flow out of her body. It couldn’t be good for the baby to have her mother so pissed off all the time.

She gritted her teeth before she realized that she’d done so again. Forcing her jaw to relax once more, she performed the arduous task of combing out her hair and blow-drying it.

She was finishing up when a loud knock sounded at her door.

“Food. Finally,” she murmured as she turned off the hair dryer.

She hurried to the door and swung it open. But there was no food cart or hotel employee. Rafael stood there, her abandoned shoes dangling from his fingertips.

She stepped back and tried to slam the door, but he stuck his foot in, preventing her from shutting it.

As indomitable as ever, he pushed his way in and stood in front of her. She hated how small and vulnerable she felt against him. Oh, she hadn’t always hated it. She’d loved how protected and cherished he’d made her feel when she curled her much smaller body into his.

She bared her teeth into a snarl. “Get out or I’ll call hotel security.”

“You could,” he said calmly. “But as I own this hotel, you might have a hard time having me thrown out.”

Her eyes narrowed. Of course he’d own the hotel she’d chosen to stay in. What were the odds of that?

“I’ll call the police then. I don’t care who you are. You can’t force yourself into my hotel room.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I came to return your shoes. Does that make me a criminal?”

“Oh, come on, Rafael! Stop playing stupid games. It’s beneath you. Or it should be. I get it. Believe me—I get it! I got it as soon as you looked right through me at the party. Though I have to say, the ‘have we met?’ line? That was priceless. Just priceless. Not to mention overkill.”

It was all she could do not to hit him again, and maybe he realized just how badly she wanted to because he took a wary step back.

She advanced, not willing for a moment to allow him to control the situation. “You know what? I never took you for a coward. You played me. I get that. I was a monumental idiot. But for you to hide from the inevitable confrontation like you’ve done makes me physically ill.”

She stuck a finger into his chest, ignoring the baffled look on his face. “Furthermore, you’re not going to get away with your plans for my land. If it takes every cent I own, I’ll fight you. We had a verbal agreement, and you’ll stick to it.”

He blinked, then looked as if he was about to say something.

She crossed her arms, so furious she wanted to kick him. If it wouldn’t land her on her ass, she’d do it.

“What? Did you think you’d never see me again? That I’d hide away somewhere and sulk because I learned you don’t really love me and slept with me to get me to agree to sell to you? You couldn’t be more mistaken,” she seethed.

Rafael reacted as though she’d hit him again. His face paled and his eyes became hard, cold points. If she weren’t so angry, what she saw in his gaze would probably scare the bejesus out of her. But Mamaw had always said that common sense was the first thing to go when someone got all riled up. Boy, was that the truth.

“Are you trying to insinuate that you and I have slept together?” he asked in a dangerously low voice that—again—should have frightened her. But she was way beyond fear. “I don’t even know your name.”

It shouldn’t have hurt her. She’d long since realized why Rafael had chosen her. Why he’d seduced her and why he’d told her the lies he told. He couldn’t shoulder the entire blame. She’d been far too easy a conquest.

But still, that he’d stand there before her and categorically deny even knowing her name sliced a jagged line through her heart that was beyond repair.

“You should go,” she said in a barely controlled tone. Damn the tears, but if he didn’t leave now, she wasn’t going to keep her composure for long.

His brow furrowed and he cocked his head to the side, studying her intently. Then to her dismay, he swept his hand out and smudged a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb.

“You’re upset.”

Sweet mother of God, this man was an idiot. She could only pray their child inherited her brains and not his. She nearly laughed aloud but it came out as a strangled sob. How could she hope for the poor baby to inherit any intelligence whatsoever when it was clear that both his parents were flaming morons?

“Get. Out.”

But instead he cupped her chin and tilted it upward so he could stare into her eyes. Then he wiped at the dampness on her cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture.

“We can’t have slept together. Besides the fact that you aren’t my type, I can’t imagine forgetting such an event.”

Her mouth gaped open and any thoughts of tears fled. She wrenched herself from his grasp and gave up trying to get the man out of her room. He could stay. She was going.

She gripped the lapels of her robe and stomped around him. She made it into the hall before his hand closed around her wrist and he pulled her up short.

Enough was enough. She opened her mouth to let out a shriek, but he yanked her against his hard body and covered her mouth.

“For God’s sake, I’m not going to hurt you,” he hissed.

He muscled her back into the hotel room, slammed the door and bolted it shut behind them. Then he turned and glared at her.

“You’ve already hurt me,” she said through gritted teeth.

His eyes softened and grew cloudy with confusion.

“It’s obvious you feel as though I’ve wronged you in some way. I’d apologize, but I’d have to remember you and what I supposedly did in order to offer restitution.”

“Restitution?” She gaped at him, stunned by the difference in the Rafael de Luca she fell in love with and this man standing before her now. She yanked open her robe so that the small mound of her belly showed through the thin, satin nightgown underneath. “You make me fall in love with you. You seduce me. You tell me you love me and that you want us to be together. You get my signature on papers agreeing to sell you land that has been in my family for a century. You feed me complete lies about our relationship and your plans for the land. But that wasn’t enough. No, you had to get me pregnant on top of it all!”

His face went white. Anger removed all the confusion from his features. He took a step toward her and for the first time, fear edged out her fury. She took a step back and braced her hand against the TV stand.

“Are you saying that we slept together and that I am the father of your baby?” he demanded.

She stared wordlessly at him, hurt still crowding viciously into her chest. “Are you trying to say we didn’t? That I imagined the weeks we spent together? Do you deny that you left me without a word and never looked back?”

Sarcasm crept into her voice but there was also deep pain that she wished wasn’t so evident. It was enough that he’d betrayed her. She didn’t want to be humiliated further.

He flinched and closed his eyes. Then he took a step back and for a moment she thought he was finally going to do as she’d demanded and leave.

“I don’t remember you,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t remember any of it. You. Us. That.” He gestured toward her belly.

He trailed off and something about the bewilderment in his voice made her stop in her tracks. She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and swallowed.

“You don’t remember.”

He ran a hand through his hair and swore under his breath. “I had an…accident. Several months ago. I don’t remember you. If what you’re saying is true, we met during the period where my memory is a complete blank.”

Chapter 2

Rafael watched as all the color leeched from her face and she swayed unsteadily. With a curse, he reached to grasp her arms. This time she didn’t fight him. She was limp in his hands and he felt the slight tremble beneath his fingers.

“Come, sit down, before you fall,” he said grimly.

He led her to the bed and she sat, her hands going to the edge to brace herself.

She glanced up at him, her eyes haunted. “You expect me to believe you have amnesia? Is that the best you could come up with?”

He winced because he felt much the same about the idea of amnesia. If all she’d said was true and their positions were reversed, he’d laugh her out of the room.

“I don’t ask this to make you angry, but what is your name? I feel at quite a disadvantage here.”

She sighed and rubbed a hand wearily through her thick hair. “You’re serious about this.”

He made a sound of impatience and she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“My name is Bryony Morgan,” she said quietly.

She bowed her head and black curls fell forward, hiding her profile. Unable to resist, he ran his finger over her cheek and then pushed the hair back behind her ear.

“Well, Bryony, it would seem you and I have a lot to discuss. I have many, many questions as you can well imagine.”

She turned her head to stare up at him. “Amnesia. You’re seriously going to stick to this insane story?”

He tried to remember how skeptical he’d be in her shoes, but her outright disbelief was ticking him off. He wasn’t used to having his word questioned by anyone.

“Do you think I like being punched in the face at a public gathering by a woman claiming to be pregnant with my child when to my knowledge it’s the first time we’ve met? Put yourself in my shoes for a moment. If a man you’d never seen before or had no memory of walked up to you and said the things to you that you’re saying to me, don’t you think you’d be a little suspicious? Hell, you’d probably have already called the cops you keep threatening me with.”

“This is crazy,” she muttered.

“Look, I can prove what happened to me. I can show you my medical records and the doctor’s diagnosis. I don’t remember you, Bryony. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but it’s a fact. I have only your word that we were ever anything to each other.”

Her lips twisted. “Yeah, we can’t forget I’m not your type.”

He winced. Trust her to remember that remark.

“I’d like for you to tell me everything. Start from the beginning. Tell me when and where we met. Maybe something you say will jog my memory.”

A knock sounded at the door and he scowled. “Are you expecting someone at this hour?” he asked when she rose to answer it.

“Room service. I’m starving. I haven’t eaten all day.”

“That can’t be good for the baby.”

She didn’t look as though she appreciated the remark. Gathering her robe tighter around her, she went to the door and a few seconds later, a room service attendant wheeled in a cart bearing covered plates. She signed the bill and offered a halfhearted smile of thanks to the man.

When Rafael and Bryony were alone again she pushed the cart the rest of the way to the bed. “Sorry. Obviously I wasn’t counting on company. I only ordered enough food for one.”

He lifted a brow as she began uncovering the dishes. There was enough food to feed a small convention.

“Sit down and relax. We can talk while you’re eating.”

She settled in the armchair catty-corner to the bed and curled her feet underneath her. As she reached for one of the plates, he studied the face of the woman he’d forgotten.

She was beautiful. No denying that. Not the kind of woman he usually gravitated toward. She was entirely too outspoken for his liking. He preferred women who were gentle and, according to his close friends, submissive.

Quite frankly it made him sound like a jackass. But he couldn’t deny he did like his women a bit more biddable. He found it fascinating that he’d supposedly met and fallen in love with Bryony Morgan, the antithesis of every woman he’d dated for the past five years.

Okay, so he bought that he’d been attracted to her. And yeah, he could buy sleeping with her. But falling in love? In a span of a few weeks?

That was a giant hole in the fairy tale she’d spun.

But she was also a woman, and women tended to be emotional creatures. It was possible she thought he was in love with her. Her hurt and betrayal certainly didn’t seem feigned.

And then there was the fact she was pregnant with his child. It would probably make him seem even more of a bastard, but it would be stupid not to insist on paternity testing. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she’d made the entire thing up after learning of his memory loss.

He had the sudden urge to call his lawyer and have him tell him whose signature was on the real estate contract for the land he’d purchased sometime during the weeks he’d lost. He hadn’t seen the paperwork since before his accident. He paid people to keep his business running and his affairs in order. Once he scored the deal, there was no reason to look back.

Until now.

Damn but this was a mess. And yeah, he was definitely calling his lawyer first thing in the morning.

“What are you thinking?” she asked bluntly.

“That this is a huge cluster f—”

“You’re telling me,” she muttered. “Only I don’t see what’s so bad from your perspective. You’ve got more money than God. You’re not pregnant, and you didn’t just sign away land that’s been in your family for generations to a man who’s going to destroy it to build some tourist trap.”

The pain in her voice sent an uncomfortable sensation through his chest. Something remarkably like guilt ate at him, but what did he have to feel guilty about? None of this was his fault.

“How did we meet?” he asked. “I need to know everything.”

She toyed with her fork, and her lips turned down into an unhappy frown.

“The first time I saw you, you were wearing an uptight suit, shoes that cost more than my house and you had on sunglasses. It annoyed me that I couldn’t see your eyes, so I refused to speak to you until you took them off.”

“And where was this?”

“Moon Island. You were asking about a stretch of beachfront property and who owned it. I, of course, was the owner, and I figured you were some guy from the city with big plans to develop the island and save all the locals from a life of poverty.”

He frowned. “It wasn’t for sale? I remember it being for sale before I ever went down there. I wouldn’t have known about it otherwise.”

She nodded. “It was. I…I needed to sell it. My grandmother and I could no longer afford the property taxes. But we agreed we wouldn’t sell to a developer. It was bad enough that I was forced to sell land that’s been in my family for generations.”

She broke off, clearly uncomfortable with all she’d shared.

“Anyway, I figured you for another stiff suit, and so I sent you across the island on a wild-goose chase.”

He sent a glare in her direction. For the first time, a smile flirted on the edge of her lips.

“You were so angry with me. You stormed back to my cottage and banged on my door. You demanded to know what the hell I was doing and said I didn’t act like someone who desperately needed to sell a piece of land.”

“That sounds like me,” he acknowledged.

“I informed you that I wasn’t interested in selling to you and you demanded to know why. When I told you of my promise to my grandmother that we’d only sell to someone willing to sign a guarantee that they wouldn’t commercially develop the stretch of beach, you asked to meet her.”

An uncomfortable prickle went up his nape. That didn’t sound like him. He wasn’t one to get personal. Everyone had their price. He would have simply upped his offer until he found theirs.

“The rest is pretty embarrassing,” she said lightly. “I took you to meet Mamaw. The two of you got along famously. She invited you to stay for supper. Afterward we took a walk on the beach. You kissed me. I kissed you back. You walked me back to my cottage and told me you’d see me the next day.”

“And did I?”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered. “And the day after, and the day after. It took me three days to talk you out of that suit.”

He lifted a brow and stared.

Her cheeks turned red and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, God, I didn’t mean it like that. You wore that suit everywhere on the beach. You stuck out like a sore thumb. So I took you shopping. We bought you beachwear.”

This was starting to sound like a nightmare. “Beachwear?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “Shorts. T-shirts. Flip-flops.”

Maybe the doctor had been right. He lost his memory because he wanted to forget. Flip-flops? It was all he could do not to stare down at his very expensive leather loafers and imagine wearing flip-flops.

“And I wore this…beachwear.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You did. We bought swim trunks, too. I don’t know of anyone who goes to an island and doesn’t pack something to swim in, so we got you some trunks and I took you to my favorite stretch of the beach.”

So far her version of the weeks missing from his memory was so divergent from everything he knew of himself that it was like listening to a story about someone else. What could have possessed him to act so out of character?

“How long did this relationship you say we had go on?” he croaked.

“Four weeks,” she said softly. “Four wonderful weeks. We were together every day. By the end of the first week, you gave up your hotel room and you stayed with me. In my bed. We’d make love with the windows open so we could listen to the ocean.”

“I see.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me.”

“Bryony,” he said carefully. “This is very difficult for me. I’m missing a month of my life and what you’re telling me sounds so fantastical, so utterly out of character for me, that I can’t even wrap my head around it.”

She pressed her lips together but he could still see them tremble. “Yeah, I get that this is difficult for you. But try to see things from my perspective for just a few moments. Imagine that the person you were in love with and thought was in love with you suddenly can’t remember you. Imagine what kind of doubts you have when you discover that everything he told you was a lie and that he made you promises he didn’t keep. How would you feel?”

He stared into her eyes, gutted by the sorrow he saw. “I’d be pretty damn upset.”

“Yeah. That about covers it.”

She stood and pushed the serving cart back so that she could step around it. Her hand crept around the back of her neck and she rubbed absently as she stood just a short distance from where he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Look, this is…pointless. I’m really tired. You should probably go now.”

He shot to his feet. “You want me to go?” It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her if she was out of her damn mind, but that wouldn’t win him any more points with her. “After dumping this story on me, after telling me I’m going to be a father, you expect me to just walk away?”

“It’s what you did before,” she said wearily.

“How the hell can you say that? How do you know what I did or didn’t do when I don’t even know? You said you loved me and that I loved you. I’ve just told you I can’t remember any of it. How do you get that I walked away from you? That I somehow betrayed you? I was in an accident, Bryony. What was the last day you saw me? What did we do? Did I dump you? Did I tell you I was leaving you?”

Her face was white and her fingers were balled into tiny fists at her sides.

“It was the day after we closed on the land. You said you had to go back to New York. It was some emergency you had to attend to personally. You said it wouldn’t take more than a day or two. You told me you’d be back, that you couldn’t wait to come back, and that once you’d returned, we’d discuss what we’d do with the land,” she said painfully.

“What day was it? The date, Bryony. The exact date.”

“June third.”

“The day of my accident.”

She looked stricken. Her hand flew to her mouth. She looked so unsteady that he thought she might fall. He reached out, snagged her wrist and pulled her down to sit beside him. She didn’t fight. She just stared at him numbly.

“How? What happened?”

“My private jet went down over Kentucky,” he said grimly. “I don’t remember a lot. I woke up in a hospital and had no idea how I’d come to be there.”

“And you remember nothing?” she asked hoarsely.

“Only those four weeks. I have some other gaps but it’s mostly people I’m supposed to know or remember but don’t. I didn’t initially remember the circumstances surrounding my decision to fly down to Moon Island, but that’s easy enough to figure out since I bought a piece of property while I was there.”

“So you just forgot me,” she said with a forced laugh.

He sighed. “I know it’s not easy to hear. Try to understand that I’m having the same difficulty believing all you’ve told me. I may not remember you, Bryony, but I’m not a complete bastard. It doesn’t bring me any satisfaction to see how much this hurts you.”

“I tried to call,” she said bleakly. “At first I waited. I told myself all sorts of excuses. It was a bigger emergency. You’re a really busy guy. But then I tried to call the number you’d given me. No one would let me speak to you. There were always excuses. You were in a meeting. You were out of town. You were at lunch.”

“There was a pretty tight security net around me after the accident. We didn’t want anyone to know of my memory loss. We were afraid it would make investors lose their confidence in me. Any sign of weakness will make many people pull out of a deal.”

“It looked—and felt—like a brush-off, and it pissed me off the more time that passed because you didn’t have the balls to tell me to my face.”

“So why now? Why did you wait so long to come here and confront me?”

She stared warily at him as if determining whether he was suspicious of her motives. And maybe he was. It certainly made sense that if she’d been that angry—and pregnant—she wouldn’t have waited four months to confront him.

“I didn’t find out I was pregnant until I was nearly ten weeks along. And Mamaw was having health problems so I was spending a lot of time with her. I didn’t want to upset her by telling her that I suspected you’d seduced me and lied to me—to us—about your plans for the land. It would have broken her heart. Not just about the land. She knew how much I loved you. She wanted me happy.”

Well, damn. He felt about two inches tall.

He ran a hand through his hair and wondered how the hell someone’s life could change so drastically in a single day.

“We have some decisions to make, Bryony.”

She turned and tilted her head in his direction. “Decisions?”

He met her gaze. “You’ve told me that I was in love with you. That you were in love with me. You’ve also said that you’re pregnant with my child. If you think I’m just going to walk out of your hotel room and not look back, you’re insane. We have a hell of a lot to work out and it isn’t going to be resolved in a single night. Or day. Or week even.”

She nodded her agreement.

“I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes widened. Her mouth parted and her tongue swept nervously over her bottom lip.

“Where exactly are we going?”

“If everything you say is true, then a hell of a lot of my life and future changed on that island. You and I are going to go back to where it all started.”

She stared in bewilderment at him. Had she expected him to walk away? He wasn’t sure if he was angry or resigned over that fact.

“We’re going to relive those weeks, Bryony. Maybe being there will bring it all back.”

“And if it doesn’t?” she asked cautiously.

“Then we’ll have spent a lot of time getting reacquainted.”

Chapter 3

“Have you lost your mind?” Ryan demanded.

Rafael stopped pacing and leveled a stare at his friends, who’d gathered in his office.

“Let’s not talk about who’s lost their mind,” Rafael said pointedly. “I’m not the one mounting a search for the woman who screwed me over with my brother.”

Ryan glared at him then shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to stare out the window.

“Low blow,” Devon murmured.

Rafael blew out his breath. Yeah, it had been. Whatever the reason for Ryan trying to track down his ex-fiancée, he didn’t deserve Rafael acting like an ass.

“Sorry, man,” Rafael offered.

Cam leaned back in Rafael’s executive chair and placed his feet up on the desk. “I think you’re both certifiable. No woman is worth this much trouble.” He clasped his hands behind his head and leveled a stare in Rafael’s direction. “And you. I don’t even know what to say to your crazy idea of going back with her to Moon Island. What do you hope to accomplish?”

That was a damn good question. He wasn’t entirely certain. He wanted his memory back. He wanted to know what had made him go off his rocker and supposedly fall in love with and impregnate a woman in a matter of weeks.

He was thirty-four years old, but from all accounts, he’d acted like a teenager faced with his first naked woman.

“She says we fell in love.”

He nearly groaned. Just saying the words made him feel utterly ridiculous.

The three other men stared at him as if he’d just announced he was taking a vow of celibacy. Though at the moment, it didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“She also claims the child she’s pregnant with is yours,” Devon pointed out. “That’s a lot of things she’s claiming.”

“Have you talked to your lawyer?” Ryan asked. “This entire situation makes me nervous. She could do a lot of damage to this deal if she goes public. If she spills her tale of you being a complete bastard, knocking her up and hauling ass before the ink on the contracts was dry, it’s not going to make any of us look good.”

“No, I damn well haven’t spoken to Mario yet,” Rafael muttered. “When have I had time? I’m calling him next.”

“So how long are you going to be gone on this soul-searching expedition?” Cam asked.

Rafael shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “As long as it takes.”

Devon glanced down at his watch. “As much as I’d love to stick around and be amused by all this, I have an appointment.”

“Copeland?” Cam smirked.

Devon curled his lip in Cam’s direction.

“The old man still adamant that you marry his daughter if you want the merger?” Ryan asked.

Devon sighed. “Yeah. She’s…flighty, and Copeland seems to think I’d settle her.”

Rafael winced and shot his friend a look of sympathy.

Cam shrugged. “So tell him the deal’s off.”

“She’s not that bad. She’s just young and…exuberant. There are worse women to marry.”

“In other words, she’d drive a stick-in-the-mud like you crazy,” Ryan said with a grin.

Devon made a rude gesture as he headed toward the door.

Cam swiveled in Rafael’s chair and let his feet hit the floor with a thud. “I’m off, too. Make damn sure you give us a heads-up before you head off to find yourself, Rafe.”

Rafael grunted and claimed his chair as Cam followed behind Devon. Ryan still stood at the window and he turned to Rafael once they were alone.

“Hey, I’m sorry for the crack about Kelly,” Rafael said before Ryan could speak. “Have you been able to find her yet?”

Ryan shook his head. “No. But I will.”

Rafael didn’t understand Ryan’s determination to hunt down his ex-fiancée. The whole fiasco had taken place during the four weeks Rafael had lost, but Devon and Cam had told him that Kelly had slept with Ryan’s brother. Ryan had tossed her out and had seemingly moved on. Only now Ryan had hired an investigator to find her.

“You don’t remember Bryony?” Ryan asked. “Nothing at all?”

Rafael slapped a pen against the edge of his desk. “No. Nothing. It’s like looking at a stranger.”

“And you don’t think that’s odd?”

Rafael made a sound of exasperation. “Well, of course it’s odd. Everything about this situation is odd.”

Ryan leaned back against the window and studied Rafael. “You’d think if you’d fallen head-over-ass for this woman, spent every waking moment for four weeks with her and managed to knock her up in the process that there would at least be some serious déjà vu.”

Rafael tossed the pen down and spun in his chair until his foot caught on the trash can next to his desk. “I get where you’re going with this, Ryan, and I appreciate your concern. Something happened on that island. I don’t know what, but there is a gaping hole in my memory and she’s at the center. I’ve got to go back, if for no other reason than to disprove her story.”

“And if she’s telling the truth?” Ryan asked.

“Then I’ve got a hell of a lot of catching up to do,” Rafael muttered.

* * *

Bryony stood outside the high-rise office building and stared straight up. The sleek modern architecture glistened in the bright autumn sun. The sky provided a dramatic backdrop as the spire punched a hole in the vivid blue splash.

An orange leaf drifted lazily onto her face, brushing her nose before fluttering to the ground. It joined others on the sidewalk and skittered along the concrete until it was crunched beneath the feet of the many passersby.

She was jostled by someone shouldering past her and she heard a muttered “Tourist” as they hurried on by.

The city frightened and fascinated her in equal parts. Everyone was so busy here. No one stopped even for a moment. The city pulsed with people, cars, lights and noise. Constant noise.

How did anyone stand it?

And yet she’d been ready to embrace it. She’d known that if she were to have a life with Rafael, she’d have to grow used to city life. It was where he lived and worked. Where he thrived.

Now she stood in front of his office building feeling hesitant and insecure. There was a seed of doubt and it grew with each breath. She couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t being an even bigger fool this time.

“Fool me once, blah blah,” she muttered. “I must be insane to trust him.”

But if he were telling the truth. If his utterly bizarre and improbable story were true, then he hadn’t betrayed her. He hadn’t dumped her. He hadn’t done any of the things she’d accused him of.

Part of her was relieved and the other part had no idea what to think or believe.

“Bryony, is it?”

She yanked her gaze downward, embarrassed that she was still standing in front of the building looking straight up like a moron, and saw two of the men she’d seen with Rafael at the party.

She took a wary step back. “I’m Bryony, yes.”

They were both tall. One had medium brown hair, short and neat. He smiled at her. The other one had blond hair with varying shades of brown. It was longish and unruly. He frowned at her, and his blue eyes narrowed as though she were a nasty bug.

The smiling one stuck out his hand. “I’m Devon Carter, a friend of Rafael’s. This is Cameron Hollingsworth.”

Cameron continued to scrutinize her so she ignored him and focused on Devon, although she had no idea what to say.

“Nice to meet you,” she murmured.

“Are you here to see Rafe?” Devon asked.

She nodded.

“We’ll be happy to take you up.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I can make it. I mean I don’t want to be a bother.”

Cameron shot her a cool, assessing look that made her feel vastly inferior. Her chin automatically went up and her fingers balled into a fist at her side. She really wasn’t a violent person. Truly. But in the past few days, she’d had her share of violent fantasies. Right now she visualized Cameron Hollingsworth picking himself up off the pavement.

“It’s no bother,” Devon said smoothly. “The least I can do is see you to the elevator.”

She frowned. “You think I’m incapable of finding the elevator? Or are you just one of those really nosy friends?”

Devon’s smile was lazy and unbothered. He looked at her as if he knew exactly how wound up she was and that her stomach was in knots. Maybe she had that beautiful look of a woman about to puke.

“Then I’ll bid you a good day,” Devon finally said.

She swallowed, wishing she hadn’t been quite so rude. It was a fault of hers that she went on the offensive the minute she felt at a disadvantage. She wasn’t going to win any friends acting like a bitch.

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you.”

She injected enough sincerity into her tone that even she believed herself. Devon nodded but Cameron didn’t look impressed. She forced herself not to scowl at him as the two men walked to the street and got into a waiting BMW.

Taking a deep breath, she headed to the revolving door and entered the building. The lobby was beautiful. A study in marble and exposed beams. The contrast between old and modern should have looked odd, but instead it looked opulent and rich.

There was a large fountain in the middle of the lobby and she paused to allow the sound of the water to soothe her. She missed the ocean. She didn’t venture off the island often, and it made her anxious now, in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, to return to the peace and quiet of the small coastal island she’d grown up on.

Her throat tightened and pain squeezed at her chest. Because of her, her family’s land was now in the hands of a man determined to build a resort, golf course and God knew what else. Not that those were bad things. She had nothing against progress. And she certainly wasn’t opposed to free enterprise and capitalism. A buck was a buck. Everyone wanted to make a few. Not that Rafael seemed to have any problem in that area.

But Moon Island was special. It was still untouched by the heavy hand of development. The families that lived there had been there for generations. Everyone knew everyone else. Half the island fished or shrimped and the other half had retired to the island after working thirty years in cities like Houston or Dallas.

There was an unspoken agreement among the residents that they wanted the island to remain as it was. A quiet place of splendor. A haven for people wanting to get away from life in the fast lane. Things just moved slower there.

Now because of her, that would all change. Bulldozers and construction crews would move in, and slowly the outside world would creep in and change the way of life.

She bit her lip and turned in the direction of the elevator. It hurt to think how naive she’d been. And now that she had distance from the whirlwind relationship she’d jumped into with Rafael, she knew how stupid she’d been. But at the time…At the time she hadn’t been thinking straight. She’d been powerless under his onslaught, his magnetism and the idea that he was as caught up as she was.

She angrily jabbed the button for the thirty-first floor then stepped back as others crowded in. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her to add in a legal clause to the contract, but she’d imagined that it would seem as though she didn’t trust him. Sort of like demanding a prenuptial agreement before marriage. Yeah, it was smart, but it was also awkward and brought up questions she hadn’t wanted at the time.

He’d absolutely sold her on the idea that he wanted to buy the land for personal use. It hadn’t been a corporation name on the closing documents. It had been his and only his. Rafael de Luca. And she’d believed him when he’d said he’d be back. That he loved her. That he wanted them to be together.

She was so deeply humiliated over her stupidity that she couldn’t bear to think about it. Now, when she’d come to New York to confront Rafael over his lies, she was confronted by his extraordinary claim that he’d lost his memory. It was so damn convenient.

But she couldn’t help whispering, “Please let him be telling the truth.” Because if he was, then maybe the rest wasn’t as bad as she thought. And that probably made her an even bigger moron than she’d already proved herself to be.

When she got off the elevator, there was a reception desk directly in front of her. As Bryony walked up, the receptionist smiled. “Do you have an appointment?”

An appointment? It took her a moment to collect herself and then she nodded. “Rafael is expecting me.”

Her voice sounded too husky and too unsure, but the receptionist didn’t seem to notice.

“Are you Miss Morgan?”

Bryony nodded.

“Right this way. Mr. de Luca asked that you be shown right in. Would you like some tea or coffee?” With a glance down at Bryony’s belly, she added, “We have decaf if you prefer.”

Bryony smiled. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

The receptionist opened a door, and Rafael looked up from his desk. “Mr. de Luca, Miss Morgan is here.”

Rafael rose and strode forward. “Thank you, Tamara.”

“Is there anything you’d like me to get for you?” Tamara inquired politely.

Rafael shook his head. “See that I’m not disturbed.”

Tamara nodded and retreated, closing the door behind her.

Bryony stared at Rafael, such a short distance away. She could smell him he was so close. She was at a complete loss as to how to act around him now. She could no longer maintain the outraged, jilted-lover act because if he couldn’t remember her, he couldn’t very well be blamed for acting as though she didn’t exist for the past months.

But neither could she just take up where they’d left off and throw herself into his arms.

The result was tension so thick and awkward that it made her want to fidget out of her shoes.

He stared at her. She stared at him. One would never guess that they’d made a child together.

Rafael sighed. “Before this goes any further, there is something I have to do.”

Her brows came together and then lifted when he took a step toward her.

“What?” she asked.

He cupped her face and stepped forward again until their bodies were aligned and his heat—and scent—enveloped her.

“I have to kiss you.”

Chapter 4

Bryony took a wary step back but Rafael was determined that she wouldn’t escape him. He caught her shoulders and pulled her almost roughly against him, swallowing up her light gasp just before his lips found hers in a heated rush.

He wasn’t entirely certain what he’d expected to happen. Fireworks? His memory miraculously restored? Images of those missing weeks to flash into his head like a slide show?

None of that happened, but what did shocked the hell out of him.

His body roared to life. Every muscle tensed in instant awareness. Desire and lust coiled tight in his belly and he became achingly hard.

And hell, but she was responsive. After her initial resistance, she melted into his chest and returned his kiss with equal fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly, her lush curves molded perfectly to his body. A body that was screaming for him to pin her to the desk and slake his lust.

He pulled back as awareness returned. For the love of God, what was he thinking? She was pregnant with his child, he couldn’t remember her and yet he was ready to tear both of their clothes off and damn the consequences.

Well, at least she couldn’t get pregnant again….

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away, his heart thudding out of control and his breaths blowing in ragged spurts from his nose.

Not his type? He shook his head. He’d never met a woman in his life with whom he shared such combustible chemistry.

When he turned back around, Bryony stood there looking dazed, her lips swollen and her eyes soft and fuzzy. It was all he could do not to haul her back into his arms to finish what he’d started.

“I’m sorry,” he began before breaking off. “I just had to know.”

Her eyes sharpened and the haze lifted away. “Know what?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot in agitation as she stared him down.

“If I could remember anything,” he muttered.

Her lip curled into a snarl, baring her teeth. He was reminded of a pissed-off cat, and remembering that she’d decked him the night before, he took a step back.

“And?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She threw him a disgusted look and then turned to stalk out of his office.

“Wait a damn minute,” he called as he started after her.

She made it to the door before he caught her arm and turned her around to face him.

“What the hell is your problem?”

She gaped at him. “My problem? Gee, I don’t know. Maybe I don’t appreciate being mauled as some sort of experiment. I get that this is difficult for you, Rafael, but you aren’t the only one suffering here. You don’t have to be such an ass.”

“But—”

Before he could protest, she was gone again, and he watched her walk away. At least she was wearing sensible shoes she wouldn’t trip in.

He stood there arguing with himself over whether to go after her, but what would he say when he caught up? He wasn’t sorry he kissed her even if it hadn’t been a magic cure-all. It had told him one important thing. He couldn’t get close to her without erupting into flames, which meant the likelihood of her carrying his child…?

Pretty damn good.

He strode back to his desk and picked up the phone. A few seconds later, Ramon answered with a curt affirmative.

“Miss Morgan has just left my office. See that she gets back to her hotel safely.”

* * *

Bryony got off the elevator and exited the office building, no longer caring whether she and Rafael had dinner plans. Her jaw ached from the tight set of her teeth and tears stung the corners of her eyes.

She’d hoped for any sign of the Rafael de Luca she’d fallen in love with. Maybe she had also hoped that their kiss would spark…something. Or that maybe he would embrace the possibility that he’d felt something for her…once.

But there had been no recognition in his eyes when he’d pulled away. Just lust. Lust that any man could feel. A man could have sex with any number of women, but it didn’t mean he harbored any deeper feelings for her.

The crisp air ruffled her hair and she started down the sidewalk, no clear direction in mind. It seemed colder than before and she shivered as she walked. Around her, horns honked, people jostled as they passed, dusk was settling and streetlights had started to blink on.

There was still plenty of light for her to walk the few blocks back to her hotel and she needed to let off some steam. She was flushed from Rafe’s kiss and she was furious that he’d been so cold and calculating about it.

She’d felt like…a plaything. Like she hadn’t mattered. Like she was just a set of boobs for his amusement.

But then that’s likely all she’d ever been from the start.

She couldn’t afford to be stupid a second time. Not until she had his guarantee—his written guarantee—that he wouldn’t develop the land would she allow herself to think that his intentions toward her had been sincere.

She hugged her arms to her chest and stopped at a pedestrian crossing. A man knocked into her and she turned with a startled “Hey!”

He mumbled an apology about the time the light turned and the crowd surged forward. With her attention diverted she didn’t feel the tug at her other arm until it was too late.

Her purse strap fell and her arm was nearly yanked from its socket as the thief started to run.

Anger rocketed through her veins and, reacting on instinct, she grabbed ahold of the strap with her other hand and tugged back.

The man was close to her own unimpressive height and nearly as slight, but grim determination was etched into his grimy face. He slammed into her, sending her sprawling to the pavement. She hit with enough impact to jar her teeth, but the strap was wrapped around her wrist now.

He jerked again and this time dragged her a few feet before he let out a snarl of rage and backhanded her. Her grip loosened and out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of silver.

Fear paralyzed her when she saw the knife coming toward her. But her attacker slashed at the strap, sending her flying backward as the tension was released. He was gone, melting into the crowd as she lay sprawled on the curb holding her eye.

It had only taken a few seconds. Under a minute, surely. She heard someone shout and then someone knelt next to her.

“Are you okay, lady?”

She turned, not recognizing the person who’d spoken, and she was too stunned to respond. Then she saw a sleek black car screech to a halt in front of her and a huge mountain of a man rushed out to hover protectively over her.

He moved with a grace that belied his enormous size and he knelt in front of her, his hand cupping her chin as he turned her this way and that to examine her eye.

He barked rapidly into his Bluetooth but she was too muddled to know what he said or to whom he had spoken. She hoped it was the police.

“Miss Morgan, are you all right?” he asked urgently.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“Mr. de Luca sent me.”

“How would he know what happened?” she asked in a baffled tone.

“He wanted to make sure you made it to your hotel safely. I didn’t catch you in time to give you a ride. I was looking for you when I saw what happened.”

“Oh.”

“Can you stand?” he asked.

She slowly nodded. She’d certainly try. As he gently helped her to her feet, she clutched at her belly, worried that her fall had hurt her child.

“Are you in pain?” the man demanded.

“I don’t know,” she said shakily. “Maybe. I’m just scared. The fall…”

“I’m taking you to the hospital at once. Mr. de Luca will meet us there.”

She didn’t protest when he ushered her into the backseat of the car. He got in beside her and issued a swift order for the driver to take off. They were away and into traffic in a matter of moments.

She sank back into the seat, her hands shaking so badly that she clenched them together in her lap to try and quell the movement.

The giant beside her took up most of the backseat. He leaned forward and rummaged in an ice bucket in the console and a moment later held an ice pack to her eye.

She winced and started to pull away, but he persisted and held it gently to her face.

“Are you feeling any pain anywhere else?” he queried.

“I don’t think so. I’m just shaken up.”

His expression was grim as he pulled away the ice pack to examine her eye.

“You’re going to have one heck of a bruise. I think it’s a good idea to have a doctor check you out so you can be sure the baby wasn’t harmed.”

She nodded and grimaced when he put the ice pack back into place.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For your help. Your timing was excellent.”

His face twisted with anger. “No, it wasn’t. If I had been there a moment earlier, he wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“Still, thanks. He had a knife.”

She swallowed the knot of panic in her throat and drew in steadying breaths. She could still see the flash of the blade as it slashed out at her. A shiver stole up her spine and attacked her shoulders until she trembled with almost violent force.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said faintly.

He looked at her with worried eyes as if he thought his name was the last thing that should be on her mind.

“Ramon. I’m Mr. de Luca’s head of security.”

“I’m Bryony,” she said, before realizing he already knew her name. He’d called her Miss Morgan earlier.

“We’re almost there, Bryony,” he said in a steady, reassuring voice.

Was she about to melt down on him? Was that why he was staring at her with such concern and speaking to her as if he was trying to talk her down from the ledge?

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. He followed with the ice pack and soon it was smushed up against her face again.

A few seconds later, the car ground to a halt and the door immediately opened. She opened her eyes as Ramon removed the ice pack and hurriedly got out of the car. He reached back to help her out and they were met by an E.R. tech pushing a wheelchair.

Astonished by the quickness in which they got her back to an exam room, she stared with an open mouth as she was laid on one of the beds by two nurses and they immediately began an assessment of her condition.

Ramon hung by her bedside, watching the medical staff’s every move. As if sensing Bryony’s bewilderment, Ramon leaned down and murmured, “Mr. de Luca is a frequent contributor to this hospital. He called ahead to let them know you’d be arriving.”

Well, that certainly made more sense.

“The on-call obstetrician will be in to see you shortly,” one of the nurses said. “He’ll want to make sure all is well with the baby.”

Bryony nodded and murmured her thanks.

The nurse went over a series of questions as she did her assessment. Bryony was a little embarrassed over all the fuss. Near as she could tell, all she’d suffered was a black eye and a bruised behind. But she wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to make sure all was well with her baby.

She’d leaned back to close her eyes when the door flew open and Rafael strode in, his expression dark and his gaze immediately seeking out Bryony.

He hurried to her bedside and took her hand in his. “Are you all right?” he demanded. “Are you hurt? Are you in any pain?” He took a breath and dragged a hand through his hair in agitation. “The…baby?”

Before she could respond, his gaze settled on her face and his eyes darkened with fury. He tentatively touched her cheek and then he turned to Ramon, his jaw clenched.

“What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Bryony said in answer to the barrage of questions. But Rafael was no longer concentrating his efforts on her. He was interrogating his head of security.

“Rafael.”

When he still didn’t stop his tirade of questions, she tugged at his hand until finally he turned back to her.

“I’m okay. Really. Ramon showed up just in time. He took good care of me.”

“I should not have let you leave my office,” Rafael gritted out. “You were upset and in no condition to be out on the streets. I’d thought Ramon would give you a ride home.”

She shrugged. “I walked. He didn’t catch up with me until after….”

Rafael looked hastily around and then dragged a chair to her bedside. He perched on the edge and stared intently at her.

“Has the doctor been in yet? What has he said about the baby? Are you hurt anywhere else? Did the bastard hit you?”

She shook her head at the flurry of questions and blinked at the fierceness in his voice and expression. This wasn’t a side of Rafael she’d ever seen before.

“The nurse said the on-call obstetrician would be in to see me shortly and that he would conduct an assessment to make sure all was well with the baby. And no, I’m not hurt anywhere else.”

She raised her hand to her eye and winced when she pushed in on the already swelling area.

Rafael captured her hand and pulled it away from her eye.

“It’s unacceptable for you to be walking the streets of New York City alone. I don’t even like you staying in that hotel alone.”

She smiled in amusement. “But it’s your hotel, Rafael. Are you suggesting it isn’t safe?”

“I’d prefer you were with me, where I know you are safe,” he said through gritted teeth.

Her brows came together as she studied him. “What are you saying?”

“Look, we were going to be leaving together for Moon Island in a few days anyway. It’s only reasonable that you’d stay with me until we depart. It will give us additional time to…reacquaint ourselves with one another.”

She stared hard into his eyes, looking for…She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. What she saw, however, was burning determination and outrage that she’d been harmed.

He may not remember her, but his protective instincts had been riled, and whether he fully accepted that she carried his child, he was certainly concerned about both mother and baby.

Wasn’t that a start?

“All right,” she said softly. “I’ll stay with you until we leave for the island.”

Chapter 5

Rafael would have carried her into his penthouse if she’d allowed it. As it was he argued fiercely until she rolled her eyes and informed him that she was perfectly okay and that no one got carried around because of a black eye.

The reminder of her black eye just infuriated Rafael all the more. She was a tiny woman and the idea that some street thug had manhandled her—a pregnant woman—made his jaw clench. Even though the doctor had assured him that all was well with her pregnancy.

He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He was in new territory for sure. Bryony was the first woman he’d ever brought up to his penthouse and it felt as though his territory had been invaded.

“Would you like me to order in dinner?” he asked when he’d settled her on the couch. Surely it wasn’t a good idea for her to go out and it was late.

“I’d like that, thanks,” she said as she leaned her head back against the sofa.

He frowned when he saw the fatigue etched on her face. “You must be tired.”

Her lips twisted ruefully and she nodded. “It’s been an eventful couple of days.”

Guilt crept up his nape until he was compelled to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t made things easier for her. She’d traveled a long way and then…Then things had gone all to hell.

He stood, irritated with himself. Why should he feel guilty about anything? He couldn’t remember. God knew he’d tried. He went to bed frustrated every single night, hoping when he woke the next morning that everything would be restored and he could stop wondering about the holes. Stop wondering if he’d done something ridiculous like seduce and fall in love with a woman in the space of a few weeks.

It sounded so incredible that he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

No, he shouldn’t feel guilty. None of this had been his fault.

Except for the fact that he’d upset her and caused her to flee his office and she’d wound up being mugged as a result.

He studied her from across the room as he picked up the phone to call in their food order. She already looked as if she was asleep and he battled with whether to even bother waking her for dinner.

His gaze drifted to her belly and he swiftly decided against allowing her to sleep through the meal. It had likely been hours since she’d eaten anything.

He returned to her a moment later and settled on the chair next to the couch where she lay sprawled. “Would you like something to drink while we wait for the food?”

She stirred and regarded him lazily through half-lidded eyes. “Do you have juice? I feel a little light-headed.”

He bolted to his feet. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

She shrugged. “Quite frankly all I wanted was a comfortable place to sit and relax. Having all those people around me was making me crazy.”

He strode to the kitchen and rummaged in the fridge for orange juice. After checking the date on the carton, he poured a glass and went back into the living room.

This time he sat on the couch next to her and handed her the glass. She drank thirstily until half the contents were gone and then handed him back the glass.

“Thanks. That should do the trick.”

“Is this something that happens regularly or is it just the excitement of the day?” he asked suspiciously.

“I’m borderline hypoglycemic. My blood sugar gets too low every once in a while. Pregnancy sort of messes with that and I have to be careful to eat regularly or I risk passing out.”

Rafael swore under his breath. “What if you were to pass out when you were alone?”

“Well, the point is to make sure I don’t pass out.”

He scowled and then checked his watch. Only five minutes had passed since he’d placed the order.

“I’ll be fine, Rafe,” she said softly. “My grandmother is a diabetic. I’m well acquainted with how to handle low or elevated blood sugar.”

The shortened version of his name, only used by his closest friends, slipped from her lips as if she’d used it a thousand times before. Coming from her, it sounded…right. As if he’d heard it before or maybe even encouraged her to use it.

He put a hand to his nape and looked away. Why couldn’t he remember? If he had truly been involved with this woman, and if, like she’d said, they’d formed some romantic attachment—he couldn’t quite bring himself to say love—then why would he shove her as far from his memory as he could?

She kicked off her shoes and then curled her feet underneath her on the couch before grabbing one of the cushions to snuggle into. It occurred to him that if they were a real couple he would have sat beside her and…cuddled. Or maybe offered her a foot rub. Weren’t pregnant women supposed to have swollen ankles or something?

Which further proved to him that the idea of him falling in love and spending four weeks wrapped up in one woman was just…ludicrous. He dated. He even had relationships, but they were on his terms, which meant that his female companions didn’t come to his penthouse. If they had sleepovers, it was done in one of his hotels. He certainly didn’t engage in cuddling or cutesy things that a man would do for the woman he loved.

But then she glanced up and their eyes met. There was something in her gaze that peeled back his skin and squeezed his chest in a manner he wasn’t familiar with. She looked…tired and vulnerable. She looked as if she needed…comfort.

Hell.

“Rafe, he got away with my purse,” she said quietly.

He nodded. The police had come to the hospital to take her statement but it was doubtful they’d find her attacker.

“I didn’t think…I mean everything happened so fast, and then at the hospital…” She lifted her hand in a helpless gesture that only made his desire to comfort her stronger.

“What is worrying you, Bryony?”

“I need to cancel my credit cards. My bankcard. God, he’s probably already emptied all my accounts. My driver’s license was in it. How am I supposed to get back home? I can’t fly without identification.”

The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. He slid onto the couch beside her and awkwardly put his arms around her.

“There’s no need to panic. Do you have the telephone numbers you need?”

She shook her head and then laid it on his shoulder, her hair brushing across his nose.

“I can look them up on the internet if you have a computer.”

He snorted. “Do I have a computer…I’m never without an internet connection of any kind.”

She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “You were when you were on the island.”

His brow crinkled. “That’s impossible. I wouldn’t have just dropped off the map like that. I have a business to run.”

“Oh, you kept in touch,” she said. “But you often made your calls or answered emails in the morning or late at night. During the day you left your BlackBerry at my house while we explored the island.”

He sighed. “See this is why I have such a hard time with the story you tell. I would never do something like that. It isn’t me.”

Her lips turned down in a frown and she leaned away from him.

To cover the sudden awkwardness, he stood and went to his briefcase to pull out his laptop. He stood for a long moment with his back to her just so he could compose himself and keep from turning and apologizing. He didn’t want to hurt her, damn it. But one of them was crazy, and he didn’t want it to be him.

He finally went back to the couch, opened the laptop and set it on a cushion next to her.

“If you have any problems canceling your cards or ordering new ones, let me know. I’ve typed up my address so you can have them overnighted here.”

“And my license?” she asked in a tight, frustrated voice. “How am I going to get home?” She dragged her fingers through her hair, which only drew attention to the dark bruise marring her creamy skin.

“I’ll get you home, Bryony. I don’t want you to worry. Can you call your grandmother to fax a copy of your birth certificate? It’s my understanding you can fly with the birth certificate but you’ll be subjected to closer scrutiny by security.”

“Couldn’t we take your jet? Oh, I guess…Sorry.” She broke off, seemingly embarrassed at her slip.

“I have more than one,” he said dryly.

She continued to stare at him. “Then why aren’t we taking it? Wouldn’t it be easier to fly without identification if we were on a private jet?”

He cleared his throat and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just say I have a newly developed phobia of flying on small planes.”

She frowned. “I must sound so insensitive. I’m just…This has been a rotten trip all the way around.”

“Yes, I suppose it has been for you,” he murmured.

He eased back onto the couch beside her as she tapped intently on the keys. He hated how unsure of himself he was around her. But it was himself he was angry at. Not her.

If she was to be believed, her life had been completely upended. By him.

More and more he had an uneasy feeling that she was telling the truth. No matter how bizarre and unlikely such a scenario seemed. And if she was telling the truth, then he had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with the woman he supposedly loved and the child she carried. His child.

Chapter 6

“This reminds me of the nights we spent at my house,” Bryony said as she forked another bite of the seafood into her mouth.

He paused, fork halfway to his own mouth, resigned to hearing more about his uncharacteristic behavior. But she said nothing and resumed eating, her gaze downcast, almost as if she knew how ill at ease he was.

But his curiosity was also piqued because, damn it, something had happened between them and she was the only key he had to recover the missing pieces of his memory.

He forced himself to sound only mildly inquisitive. “What did we do?”

A faraway look entered her eyes and she stared toward the window at the night sky. “We used to sit cross-legged on the deck and eat the dinner I’d cooked. Then I’d lay my head in your lap and you’d stroke my hair while we listened to the ocean and watched the stars.”

Her voice lowered, catching on a husky note. “Then we’d go inside and make love. Sometimes we didn’t make it to the bedroom. Sometimes we did.”

The dreamy quality of her voice affected him fiercely. His body ached and he hardened at the images she provoked. It was suddenly very easy for him to see her spread out before him, his mouth on her skin, her fingers clinging to him as he brought them both pleasure.

He shook his head when he realized he was staring and that he was so tense that his muscles had locked. Part of him wanted to just get it over with. Take her to bed, have sex with her until they both forgot their names. His body was eager enough, but his mind was calling him a damn fool.

And she’d likely think it was some damn experiment after he’d basically admitted earlier that his kiss had been nothing more than that.

An experiment.

He wanted to laugh. Could he call desire so keen that his eyes had crossed when he’d looked at her an experiment?

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, they had compelling—uncontrollable—chemistry. Maybe he’d gotten so wrapped up in her that he’d lost all common sense. Maybe he’d made her rash promises in the heat of the moment. If her outrage was anything to go on, he at least hadn’t been stupid enough to sign anything.

He needed her cooperation. He needed this deal. He had too many investors committed. Money had exchanged hands. Construction was on a tight deadline, and the last thing he needed was her making noises over him reneging on a deal.

She’d lifted her gaze and was now studying him so intently that he found her scrutiny uncomfortable. He studied her in return, finding himself mesmerized by her dark eyes. The delicate lines of her face called to him. He wanted to trace his fingers over her cheekbone and down to her jaw and then over the softness of her lips.

Had this been the way he’d felt when he’d first seen her? Logic told him it had to have been. How could his reaction now have been any different than the first time he’d laid eyes on her?

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked in a low voice.

“Maybe I find you beautiful.”

Her reaction wasn’t what he expected. She lifted her nose in scorn and shook her head.

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“What I said was that you aren’t my normal type.”

Her lips twisted. “That isn’t what you said. To quote you exactly, you said, ‘You aren’t my type.’ That pretty much tells me you don’t find me remotely appealing.”

“I don’t care what I said,” he growled. “What I meant was that you aren’t the type of woman I normally…date.”

“Have sex with?” she asked mockingly. “Because we did, you know. We had lots and lots of sex. You were insatiable. In fact, unless you are the best damn actor in the world and can fake, not only an erection, but an orgasm as well, I’d say you’re either lying now about me not being your type, or you’re not terribly discerning when it comes to the women you sleep with.”

He’d just been insulted but he was so distracted by the sparks shooting from her eyes and how damn gorgeous she looked when she got sassy that he couldn’t formulate a response.

“See, the problem is, a woman can get away with faking sexual attraction,” she continued. “We can pretend all manner of things. Men? It’s kind of hard to pretend attraction to a woman if your penis isn’t cooperating.”

“Holy hell,” he muttered. “I think we’ve established that it’s pretty damn obvious I’m sexually attracted to you. Whatever I may have thought in the past about my preferences in women obviously doesn’t apply to you.”

“So then you’re willing to concede that you slept with me and that the child I’m carrying is yours?”

“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m willing to concede it’s possible, but I’m not stupid enough to believe it’s absolutely true until either I regain my memory, or we have DNA testing done.”

Her top lip curled a moment and it looked as if she wanted to light into him again, but instead, she took a calming breath. “As long as you’re willing to accept the possibility, I can work with that,” she muttered.

“Were you always this…charming with me when we spent all this time together?”

She lifted one eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that I tend to like my women a little more…”

“Stupid?” she challenged.

He scowled.

“Weak? Mousy? Unchallenging?” she continued. “Or maybe you prefer them to simply nod and say ‘yes, sir’ to your every whim.”

She broke off in disgust and regarded him as if he were some annoying bug she was about to squash.

He finally decided remaining silent was his best option so he didn’t dig his hole any deeper.

She laid down her fork and raised her haunted gaze to his. He was surprised to see tears shimmering in her eyes, and his throat knotted. Damn. He hadn’t wanted to upset her again. He wasn’t that big of a jerk.

“Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?” she asked in a quiet, strained voice. “Do you know how difficult it is for me to see you again and not touch you or hug you or kiss you? I came here expecting to confront a man who scammed me in the worst possible way. I had resigned myself to it and there was nothing I wanted more than to wash my hands of you. But then you tell me this story about losing your memory and what am I supposed to do then? Now I have to consider that maybe you didn’t lie to me, but I’m scared to death of believing that and then being wrong. Again. I have to put everything on hold until you regain your memory, and that sucks because I just don’t know how to feel anymore.”

He stared at her, frozen, an uncomfortable sensation coiling in his chest.

“I can’t exactly walk away. It’s what I accused you of and there’s a part of me that thinks, ‘What if he’s telling the truth? What if he regains his memory tomorrow and remembers he loves you? What if it’s all some horrible misunderstanding and we have a chance to get back what we had on the island?’”

She shoved her plate away and looked down as she visibly tried to collect herself.

“But what if I was right?” she whispered. “What if me sticking around hoping makes me an even bigger fool than falling for your lies to begin with? I have a child to consider now.”

Before he could think twice about what he should say or do, he found himself reaching for her. It was impossible not to want to touch her, to offer her comfort. The pain in her expression was too real. Her eyes were clouded with moisture and hurt shimmered in their depths.

He pulled her into his arms and leaned back against the couch. For a moment she lay there stiffly, so still that he wondered if she held her breath.

He inhaled the scent of her hair and felt keen disappointment that it stirred nothing to life in his memories. Wasn’t smell supposed to be the most powerful memory trigger?

Gradually she relaxed against him, her fingers curling into his chest as her cheek rested on his shoulder.

He dropped his mouth to the top of her head and stopped himself a moment before brushing his lips across her hair. It seemed the most natural thing to do and yet he knew tenderness wasn’t a usual characteristic. It seemed too personal. Too intimate.

But the need to show her a more gentle side of himself was a physical ache.

“I’m sorry,” he said truthfully. He had no love for seeing this woman hurt. He didn’t like to see anyone needlessly suffer. The fact that he was the source of her pain made him extremely uncomfortable.

“Just let me stay here a minute and pretend,” she said. “Just don’t say…anything.”

He carefully laid his hand over her dark curls and did as she asked. He sat there, her head on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around her, his hand wrapped in her hair, and silence descended on them.

But the silence felt awkward to him, as if he should fill the gaps. Or ask questions. Something…

He glanced down at the soft curls splayed out over his chest. He could just feel the swell of her belly against his side.

Was this his reality? And if it was, why wasn’t he running as hard as he could in the other direction?

It wasn’t as if he was commitment-phobic. Okay, maybe a little, but it wasn’t as if he’d endured some trauma in the past that made him leery of women. Nor was he some patsy who was afraid of allowing a woman to hurt him.

He hadn’t ever committed because…Well, he wasn’t entirely certain. Men in relationships lacked a certain amount of control. They could no longer make solo decisions, and Rafael was used to making decisions in a split second—without conferring with someone else.

It wasn’t a fluke that he owned his own business, not to mention had a partnership with three of his friends. His work took a lot of time. Time he wouldn’t have if he had to worry about being home every night for dinner.

He liked being able to jet off at a moment’s notice. He looked forward to business meetings—considered them a challenge. While he didn’t have a lot of downtime, he did enjoy taking it at his leisure. He met Ryan, Devon and Cam at least once a year for golf, lots of alcohol and other pursuits only available to men who were not otherwise involved in a relationship.

Simply put, he’d never met a woman who made him want to give up all that. He damn sure couldn’t imagine meeting her and giving up his life in a matter of four weeks. That kind of decision would have to be made over the course of years. Maybe never.

But on the other hand.

There was always a but.

As he stared down at the woman curled trustingly in his arms, something pulled at him. Some desire he hadn’t ever acknowledged, one that would normally have horrified him—should horrify him.

He found himself wishing he could remember all the things she’d described to him, because all of a sudden, they sounded appealing.

And if that didn’t scare the hell out of him, he wasn’t sure what would.

Chapter 7

“Rafael! Rafael! Wake up! Hurry!”

Rafael came awake with a start, his arms flying out as he pushed himself up from his bed. Bryony stood at his bedside, fully dressed, hopping around like her feet were on fire.

He threw his feet over the side and leaned forward. “What is it? Is it the baby? Are you hurt?”

She frowned a moment, shook her head and then grinned like a maniac. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.

“Then what the hell are you shouting about?” He glanced over at his bedside clock. “For God’s sake, it’s early!”

“It’s snowing!”

She grabbed at his hand and started to pull. The covers fell away from his hips and they both went still. Her gaze dropped about the time his did and it was then he remembered he hadn’t worn anything to bed, and worse, his penis was making its presence known in a not very subtle way.

He yanked the covers back over him as she stepped hastily back, pulling her sweater around her like a protective barrier. Hell, it wasn’t as if he was bursting into her room trying to maul her.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll just go down by myself.”

She turned and he scrambled out of bed, pulling the sheet with him.

“Wait a minute,” he ordered. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

Her eyes came alive again, brimming with excitement. The sparkle was infectious.

“Outside, of course! It’s snowing!”

He glanced toward his window but he was too bleary-eyed to make sense of the weather. “Haven’t you ever seen snow before?”

She shook her head.

“Are you serious?”

She nodded this time. “I live on an island off the Texas coast. We don’t exactly get snow there, you know.”

“But you’ve been off the island. Haven’t you ever been anywhere it snowed before?”

She shrugged. “I don’t leave much. Mamaw needs me. I go to Galveston to do our shopping, but I do a lot of it online.”

He saw her cast sidelong glances at the window as if she were afraid the snow would disappear at any moment. Then he sighed. “Give me five minutes to get dressed and I’ll go down with you.”

Her smile lit up the entire room and he was left with the feeling that someone had just punched him in the stomach. She nearly danced from his bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Slowly he dropped the sheet to the floor and stared down at his groin. “Traitor,” he muttered.

He went into the bathroom, splashed water on his face and surveyed his unshaven jaw with a grimace. He never left his apartment without looking his best. There wasn’t time for even a shower. The lunatic was probably already outside dancing in the snow.

He brushed his teeth and then went to his closet to pull out a pair of slacks and a sweater. He realized that since she’d never seen snow, she’d hardly be dressed for it, so he pulled a scarf and a cap from the top shelf.

Any of his jackets or coats would swallow her whole so he’d simply have to limit her snow gazing to a short period of time.

After donning his overcoat, he walked out of his bedroom to find Bryony glued to the window in the living room. Big flakes spiraled downward and her smile was like a child’s at Christmas.

“Here,” he said gruffly. “If you’re going to go out, you need warmer things.”

She turned and stared at the scarf and cap he held out and then reached for them, but he waved her hand off and looped the scarf around her neck himself, pulling her closer.

“You probably don’t even know how to put one on,” he muttered.

After wrapping the scarf around her neck, he arranged the cap over her curls and stepped back. She looked…damn cute.

Before he could do something idiotic, he turned and gestured toward the door. “Your snow awaits.”

Bryony walked into the small courtyard that adjoined the apartment building, surprised that it was empty. How could everyone just stay inside on such a beautiful day? As soon as one of the flakes landed on her nose, she turned her face up and laughed as more drifted onto her cheeks and clung to her lashes.

She held out her hands and turned in a circle. Oh, it was marvelous and so pretty. There was just a light dusting on the patio surface, but along the fence railing and the edges of the stone planters, there was enough accumulation for her to scoop into a ball.

She scraped her hands together until she had a sizeable amount of snow and then she turned to grin at Rafael. He regarded her warily and then held up his hand in warning.

“Don’t even think…”

Before he could finish, she let fly and he barely had time to blink before the snowball exploded in his face.

“…about it,” he finished as ice slid down his cheek.

He glared at her but she giggled and hastily formed another snowball.

“Oh, hell no,” Rafael growled.

As she turned to hurl it in his direction, a snowball hit the side of her face and melting ice slid down her neck, eliciting a shiver.

“I see you couldn’t resist,” she said with a smirk.

“Resist what?”

“Playing. But who could resist snow?”

He scowled. “I wasn’t playing. I was retaliating. Now come on. You’ve seen the snow. We should go back inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Well, duh. It is snowing,” she said. “It’s supposed to be cold.”

Ignoring his look of exasperation, she hurled another snowball. He ducked and she ran for cover when she saw the gleam in his eyes. She hastily formed another snowball then peered around one of the hedges in time to get smacked by his. Right between the eyes.

“For someone who doesn’t play in the snow, your snowball fighting is sure good,” she muttered.

She waited until he went for more snow and she nailed him right in the ass. He spun around, wiping at his expensive slacks—but who wore slacks to play in the snow for Pete’s sake?—and then lobbed another ball in her direction.

She easily dodged this one and nailed him with another on the shoulder.

“I hope you know this means war,” he declared.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I made you lose that stuffy attitude once. I’ll do it again.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion and she used his momentary inattention to plaster him in his face.

Wiping the slush from his eyes, he began to stalk toward her, determination twisting his lips.

“Uh-oh,” she murmured and began backtracking.

There wasn’t a whole lot of room for evasion in the small garden, and unless she wanted to run back inside, there wasn’t anywhere to go. Since it was probably his plan to herd her back indoors, she decided to meet him head-on and weather whatever attack he had in mind.

She began scooping and pelting him with a furious barrage of snow. He swore as he twisted and ducked and then he made a sound of resignation and began scooping snow from the stone benches and hurling it back at her as fast as he could.

Unfortunately for her, his aim was a lot better and after six direct hits in a row, she raised her hands and cried, “Uncle!”

“Now why don’t I believe you?” he asked as he stared cautiously at her, his hand cocked back to blast her with another snowball.

She gave him her best smile of innocence and raised her empty hands, palms up. “You win. I’m freezing.”

He dropped the snowball and then strode forward to grasp her shoulders. He swept that imperious gaze up and down her body, much like he’d done the first time they’d met. This time it didn’t rankle, for she knew that beneath that boring, straight-laced hauteur lay a fun-loving man just aching to get out. She just had to free him. Again.

She sighed at the unfairness of it all. It was like some sick joke being played on her by fate. Karma maybe. Though she was sure she’d done nothing so hideous as to have the love of her life and father of her child regard her as a complete stranger.

She shivered and Rafael frowned. “We should go inside at once. You aren’t dressed for the weather. Did you bring nothing at all to wear for colder weather?”

She shook her head ruefully.

“We’ll need to go shopping then.”

She shook her head again. “There isn’t a point. We’ll be leaving to go back to Moon Island and it’s still quite warm there.”

“And in the meantime you’ll freeze,” he said darkly.

She rolled her eyes.

“You at least need a coat. I’ll send out for one. Do you have a preference? Fur? Leather?”

“Uh, just a coat. Nothing exotic.”

He made a dismissive gesture with his hands as if deciding that consulting with her was pointless. “I’ll have it arranged.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He always did.

“When the doorman told me you were out playing in the snow, I asked him if the real Rafael had been abducted by aliens.”

Bryony and Rafael both swung around to see Devon Carter leaning against one of the light posts just outside the door leading back into the apartment building.

“Very funny,” Rafael muttered. “What are you doing here?” He took Bryony’s hand in his.

Devon raised one lazy brow. “Just checking in on you and Bryony. I heard there was some excitement yesterday.”

Bryony grimaced and automatically put her other hand to the bruise she’d forgotten about until now.

“As you can see, she’s fine,” Rafael said. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going up so she can change into some warmer clothing.”

“Actually I was checking on you,” Devon said with a grin. “Bryony strikes me as someone who can take care of herself.”

Bryony cleared her throat as the moment grew more awkward. Devon wasn’t worried about her. He was worried about Rafael in her clutches. Her face warm with embarrassment, she extricated her hand from Rafael’s grasp.

“I’ll just go up and leave you to, uh, talk. Did you leave the door unlocked?” Or whatever it was they did in these kinds of apartments. Rafael fished in his pocket and then held out a card. “You’ll need this for the elevator.”

She tucked it into her hand and hurried toward the door after a small wave in Devon’s direction.

The two men watched her go and then Rafael turned to his friend with a frown. “What was that all about?”

Devon shrugged. “Just checking in on you, like I said. You’ve had a lot to digest over the past couple of days. Wanted to see how you were holding up and whether you’d remembered anything.”

Rafael grimaced and then shoved Devon toward the door. “Let’s at least go inside. It’s cold out here.”

The two men stopped in the coffee shop off the main lobby and Rafael requested the table by the fire.

“Things are fine,” Rafael said after they were seated. “I don’t want you worrying, nor do I want you plotting with Ryan and Cam to protect me for my own good.”

Devon sighed. “Even if I think this idea of yours to jet off to this island is a damn foolish idea?”

“Especially then.”

Devon sipped at his coffee and didn’t even attempt to sugarcoat his question. But then that wasn’t Devon. He was blunt, if anything. Cut and dried. Practical to a fault.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, Rafe? Do you really think it’s a good idea to go off with this woman who claims to be pregnant with your child? It seems to me, the smarter thing to do would be to call your lawyer, have paternity testing done and sit tight until you get the results.”

Rafael’s lips were tight as he stared back at Devon. “And what then?”

Devon blinked. “Well, that depends on the outcome of the tests.”

Rafael shook his head. “If it turns out that I’m the father, if everything she claims is true, then I will have effectively denied her for the entirety of the time I wait for the test results. If she’s telling the truth, I’ve already dealt her far too much hurt as it is. How can I expect to mend a rift if I have my lawyer sit on her while we wait to see if I’m going to be a father?”

Devon blew out his breath. “It sounds to me like you’ve already made up your mind that she’s telling the truth.”

Rafael dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the truth is. My head tells me that she couldn’t possibly be telling the truth. That the idea of me falling head-over-ass for her in a matter of weeks is absurd. It sounds so ludicrous that I can’t even wrap my head around it.”

“But…?”

“But my gut is screaming that there is definitely something between us,” Rafael grimly admitted. “When I get near her, when I touch her…It’s like I become someone else entirely. Someone I don’t know. I hear the conviction in her voice when she talks of us making love by the ocean and I believe her. More than that I want to believe her.”

Devon let out a whistle that sounded more like a crash-and-burn. “So you believe her then.”

Rafael sucked in his breath. “My head tells me she’s a liar.”

“But your gut?”

Rafael sighed because he knew what Dev was getting at. Rafael always went with his gut. Even when logic argued otherwise. And he’d never been wrong.

“My gut tells me she’s telling the truth.”

Chapter 8

“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.”

Chapter 9

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 full-time 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.”

He shrugged. “I’ve embraced the very real possibility. Until I’m proven wrong, I choose to think of it as my child.”

Her heart did a little squeeze in her chest. “Thank you for that. For now it’s enough. Until we figure out everything else, it’s enough that you accept our baby.”

“And you.”

She turned to glance quickly at him before returning her gaze to the highway.

He lowered his hand from her neck to cover her hand that rested on his leg. “There is definitely something between us. If I accept that we made a child together, surely I have to accept that we were lovers, that you meant something to me?”

“I hope I did,” she said softly.

“Tell me, Bryony, do you still love me?”

There was a note of raw curiosity in his voice. Almost as if he wasn’t sure how he wanted her to answer.

“That’s unfair,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t expect me to lay everything out when there’s a real possibility we’ll never be what we once were to each other. You can’t expect me to admit to loving a man who thinks of me as a complete stranger.”

“Not a stranger,” he corrected. “I’ve already admitted that it’s obvious we were something to each other.”

“Something. Not everything,” she said painfully. “Don’t ask me, Rafael. Not until you remember me. Ask me then.”

He reached up to touch her cheek. “All right. I’ll ask you then.”

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