Mistress to the Magnate

Money Man’s Fiancée Negotiation

Michelle Celmer

Bachelor’s Bought Bride

Jennifer Lewis

CEO’s Expectant Secretary

Leanne Banks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Money Man’s Fiance Negotiation

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Bachelor’s Bought Bride

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgements

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Epilogue

CEO’s Expectant Secretary

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Epilogue

Copyright

Money Man’s Fiancée Negotiation

Bestselling author MICHELLE CELMER lives in south-eastern Michigan with her husband, their three children, two dogs and two cats. When she’s not writing or busy being a mum, you can find her in the garden or curled up with a romance. And if you twist her arm really hard you can usually persuade her into a day of power shopping.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Visit her website, www.michellecelmer.com, or write to her at PO Box 300, Clawson, MI 48017, USA.

To the ladies of Sister Night:

Karen, Janet, Susie, Toni and Cora.

Prologue

February

Melody Trent shoved clothes into a suitcase feeling a sense of urgency that was totally without merit. Ash wouldn’t be back until late. He’d been working longer and longer hours lately. Spending less and less time with her. Honestly, she would be surprised if it didn’t take a few days before he even noticed she was gone.

Emotion welled up in her throat and tears stung her eyes. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and took a deep, calming breath. It had to be hormones because she had never been a crier.

She would love to be able to blame her mother and her revolving bedroom door for this. She would like to think that she’d stayed with Ash for three years because her mother’s longest marriage—and there were five in total—barely lasted nine months. She wanted to be different from her mother, better than her, and look at the mess it had gotten her into.

She looked over at the photo on the dresser of her and her mother. It was the only one Mel had of them together. She was thirteen, with the body of a ten-year-old. Scrawny, skinny and awkward, standing next to her voluptuous, beautiful mother. No wonder she’d felt so insignificant, so invisible. It wasn’t until college, when she shared an apartment with another student who worked part-time as a personal fitness trainer, that she finally started looking like a woman. It took vigorous daily workouts and relentless weight training, but she finally had curves to speak of, and within a year men began noticing her and asking her out.

Her body was the bait, and sex the addiction that kept them coming around, that kept them interested, because what other reason would a man have to be with someone like her? She was smart, but in her own opinion not very pretty. She was content to sit at home and study, or read a good novel, when her peers only wanted to party.

That was why she and Ash had always worked so well. She was able to go to law school, and do all the other things she enjoyed, and never worry about how the rent would get paid, or where she would find money for her next meal. He took care of her financially, and in return all she had to do was take care of everything else. And the truth was, she didn’t mind the cooking and cleaning and laundry. She’d been doing it nearly her whole life, as her mother had never taken an interest in anything domestic—God forbid she break a nail.

And of course part of the package was keeping him sexually satisfied, and at that she was a master. Only lately, the past six months or so, she could feel him pulling away from her. When they made love she felt as though his mind was somewhere else. No matter what she did, however kinky and adventurous to hold his attention, she could feel him slipping away.

When she missed her period she was sure it was a fluke. Ash had been pretty clear about the fact that he was sterile. And though their relationship had never been about love, it was mutually exclusive, so for almost three years they had never so much as used a condom.

But then her breasts started to feel tender, and her appetite suddenly became insatiable. She knew even before she took the pregnancy test that it would be positive. And of course it was. Ash had made it clear on more than one occasion that he didn’t want to be tied down. But he was a good man, and she knew he would do the right thing. The question was, did she want to be stuck in a relationship with a man who didn’t want her or her child?

If she left Ash, she would have to quit law school, though honestly, she’d lost her interest in the law a while ago. She just hadn’t had the heart to tell Ash. He had invested so much in her education. How could she tell him it was all for nothing?

She had been in the shower, debating her next move, when Ash came in with the video camera. She felt exhausted, and depressed, and in no mood to play the vixen, and really saw no point. She had already pretty much decided what she had to do. There was no need to keep trying to impress him. Three years of playing the role of the perfect woman had left her utterly exhausted. But when he stepped in the shower and started touching her, started kissing her, more tenderly than he ever had before, she melted. And when he made love to her, she could swear that for the first time he actually saw her. The real her. She let herself believe that somewhere deep down maybe he loved her.

For two weeks she agonized over what to do. She let herself hope that he would be happy about the baby. Then he came home from work in a foul mood, ranting about Jason Reagart being forced to marry and have a child he hadn’t planned or expected. He said how lucky he was to have a woman who respected his boundaries. She knew then that her fantasy about her, Ash and the baby was never going to happen.

That was last night. Today she was leaving.

She stuffed the rest of her things in her case, leaving the cocktail dresses and sexy lingerie behind. She wouldn’t be needing them where she was going. They wouldn’t fit in a few months anyway. She zipped it up and hauled both pieces of luggage off the bed. Her entire life in two suitcases and an overstuffed duffel bag. She was twenty-four with hardly anything to show for it. But that was going to change. She was going to have a child to love, and maybe someday she might meet a man who appreciated her for who she really was.

She lugged the bags to the front door then grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. She checked to make sure the six thousand was safely tucked inside. It was money she had been gradually accumulating over the past three years and saving for a rainy day.

When it rained it poured.

Next to the stack of credit cards Ash had given her, Mel set a notepad and pen out so she could write Ash a letter, but the truth was, she didn’t have a clue what to say. She could thank him for all he’d done for her, but hadn’t she thanked him enough already? She could tell him she was sorry, but honestly, she wasn’t. She was giving him his freedom. Wasn’t that enough?

She didn’t doubt he would find someone to replace her, and in a few weeks she would be just a distant memory.

She grabbed her bags and opened the door, took one last look around, then left that life behind for good.

One

April

Asher Williams was not a patient man by nature. When he wanted something, he didn’t like to wait, and truth be told, he rarely had to. However, he was warned, when he enlisted the services of a private investigator, that finding a missing person could take time. Particularly if the person they were looking for didn’t want to be found. That being the case, he was surprised when he received a call from him a mere two days later.

Ash was in a meeting with several of his colleagues and wouldn’t normally answer his cell phone, but when he saw the P.I.’s number on the screen, he made an exception. He suspected it was either very good news, or very bad.

“Excuse me for just a minute,” he told his colleagues. He rose from his chair and walked across the room, out of earshot. “You have news?” he asked, then heard the three words he had been hoping for.

“I found her.”

In that instant he felt a confusing and disturbing combination of relief and bitterness. “Where is she?”

“She’s been staying in Abilene, Texas.”

What the hell was she doing in Texas?

That wasn’t important now. What mattered was bringing her back home where she belonged. And the only way to do that was to go and get her. He was sure, with some convincing, he could make her see that he knew what was best for her, that leaving him had been a mistake. “I’m in a meeting. I’ll call you back in five minutes.”

He hung up the phone and turned to his colleagues.

“Sorry, but I have to go,” he told them. “And I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Hopefully no more than a few days. I’ll let you know when I have more details.”

The look of stunned confusion on their faces as he walked from the room was mildly amusing, and not at all unexpected. In all his time as CFO of Maddox Communications, Ash had never missed a meeting or taken a sick day. He had never been so much as five minutes late for work, and he honestly couldn’t recall the last time he’d taken a vacation—much less one with two minutes’ notice.

On his way into his office Ash asked his secretary, Rachel, to hold all his calls. “And cancel any appointments I have for the next week, just to be safe.”

Her eyes went wide. “A week?”

He closed his office door and settled behind his desk, his mind racing a million miles an hour with all that he needed to do before he left as he dialed the P.I.’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“You told me it could take months to find her,” Ash said. “Are you sure you have the right Melody Trent?”

“I’m positive it’s her. Your girlfriend was in an auto accident. It’s how I found her so quickly.”

Melody Trent wasn’t his girlfriend. By definition, she was his mistress—a warm body to come home to after a long day at work. He paid her law school tuition and living expenses and she offered companionship with no strings attached. Just the way he liked it. But it was no time to split hairs.

“Was she injured?” he asked, expecting, at worst, a few bumps and bruises. He truly was not prepared for what the P.I. said next.

“According to the police report, the driver, your girlfriend, was pretty banged up and there was one fatality.”

Ash’s stomach bottomed out and his mouth went dry. “How banged up?”

“She’s been in the hospital for a couple of weeks.”

“You said there was a fatality. What happened exactly?” He rose from his chair, began pacing as the P.I. gave him what few details he had about the crash. And it was bad. Worse than Ash could have ever imagined. “Is Melody being held responsible?”

“Fortunately, no. The police filed it as an accident. That doesn’t mean there won’t be a civil suit, though.”

They would deal with that when and if the time came. “How is Melody? Do you have any details on her condition?”

“All the hospital would say is that she’s stable. They’ll only give details to family. When I asked to talk to her, they said she wasn’t taking phone calls. That usually means that for whatever reason, the patient is unable to speak. My best guess would be she’s unconscious.”

Since Melody left him, Ash had been counting the hours until she came crawling back to ask forgiveness, to say that she’d made a mistake. At least now he knew why she hadn’t. Although that wasn’t much of a consolation. And he would be damned if anyone was going to stop him from learning the truth. “I guess I’ll just have to be family.”

“You going to say she’s your long-lost sister or something?” the P.I. asked.

“Of course not.” He needed something a bit more believable. Something he could easily prove.

Melody was his fiancée.

The next morning Ash caught the earliest flight to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, then rented a car and made the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Abilene. He had called ahead the afternoon before, setting up a meeting with the doctor in charge of her care. They told him that Melody was conscious and out of the woods, but that was the most they would say over the phone.

Once he got to the hospital he strode right past the registration desk. He’d learned a long time ago that if he looked as though he belonged somewhere, showed he was in charge, people naturally followed along, and no one tried to stop him as he stepped onto the elevator. He got off on the third floor, surprised to realize that he was actually nervous. What if Melody didn’t want to come back to him?

Of course she would, he assured himself. Her leaving had obviously been a great error in judgment, and it would have only been a matter of time before she realized how much she missed him. Besides, where else would she go while she healed from her injuries? She needed him.

He stopped at the nurses’ station and they paged a Dr. Nelson. He appeared less than five minutes later.

“Mr. Williams?” he said, shaking Ash’s hand. The department on his name badge was neurology, which likely meant that Melody had suffered some sort of brain injury. Which explained why she would have been unconscious. But did it mean her injuries were even more serious than he could have imagined? What if she never made a full recovery?

“Where is my fiancée?” Ash asked, surprised by the note of panic in his voice. He needed to hold it together. Barging in and making demands would only make this more difficult. Especially if Melody told them he actually wasn’t her fiancé. He took a second to collect himself and asked, in a much calmer tone, “Can I see her?”

“Of course, but why don’t we have a talk first.”

He wanted to see Melody now, but he followed the doctor to a small family waiting room by the elevator. The room was empty, but for a television in the corner playing some daytime game show. He sat and gestured for Ash to join him.

“How much do you know about the accident?” the doctor asked.

“I was told that the car rolled, and there was one fatality.”

“Your fiancée is a very lucky woman, Mr. Williams. She was driving on a back road when the crash occurred and it was several hours before someone drove past and discovered her there. She was airlifted here for treatment, but if the local EMS team hadn’t worked so quickly, you would be having this conversation with the coroner.”

A knot twisted his insides. It was surreal to imagine that he had come so close to losing Melody for good, and the thought of her lying trapped and alone, not knowing if she would live or die, made him sick to his stomach. He may have been angry that she left him, but he still cared deeply for her. “What was the extent of her injuries?”

“She suffered a subdural hematoma.”

“A brain injury?”

He nodded. “Until two days ago she’s been in a drug-induced coma.”

“But she’ll recover?”

“We expect her to make a full recovery.”

Ash’s relief was so intense, his body went limp. If he hadn’t already been sitting, he was sure his legs would have given out from under him.

“Although,” the doctor added, his expression darkening, “there were a few … complications.”

Ash frowned. “What complications?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that she lost the baby.”

“Baby?” he asked, the doctor’s words not making any sense. Melody wasn’t having a baby.

The doctor blinked. “I’m sorry, I just assumed you knew that she was pregnant.”

Why would Ash even suspect such a thing when the radiation from childhood cancer had rendered him sterile? It had to be a mistake. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

The only explanation, Ash realized, was that Melody had been cheating on him. The knot in his gut twisted tighter, making it difficult to take a full breath. Is that where Melody had been going when she left him? To be with her lover? The father of her child?

And like a love-sick fool Ash had been chasing after her, prepared to convince her to come home. She had betrayed him, after all that he had done for her, and he hadn’t suspected a damned thing.

His first reaction was to get up, walk out of the hospital and never look back, but his body refused to cooperate. He needed to see her, just one last time. He needed to know why the hell she would do this to him, when he had given her everything she had ever asked for, everything she could have ever needed. She could have at least had the decency, and the courage, to be honest with him.

He could see that the doctor was curious to know why, as her fiancé, Ash hadn’t known about the pregnancy, but Ash didn’t feel he owed him or anyone else an explanation. “How far along was she?” he asked.

“Around fourteen weeks, we think.”

“You think? Didn’t she say?”

“We haven’t mentioned the miscarriage. We think it would be too upsetting at this point in her recovery.”

“So she believes she’s still pregnant?”

“She has no idea that she was pregnant when she was in the accident.”

Ash frowned. That made no sense. “How could she not know?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Williams, but your fiancée has amnesia.”

The gripping fingers of a relentless headache squeezed Melody’s brain. A dull, insistent throb, as though a vice was being cranked tighter and tighter against her skull.

“Time for your pain ameds,” her nurse chirped, materializing at the side of the bed as though Melody had summoned her by sheer will.

Or had she hit the call button? She honestly couldn’t remember. Things were still a bit fuzzy, but the doctor told her that was perfectly normal. She just needed time for the anesthesia to leave her system.

The nurse held out a small plastic cup of pills and a glass of water. “Can you swallow these for me, hon?”

Yes, she could, she thought, swallowing gingerly, the cool water feeling good on her scratchy throat. She knew how to swallow pills, and brush her teeth, and control the television remote. She could use a fork and a knife and she’d had no trouble reading the gossip rags the nurse had brought for her.

So why, she wondered, did she not recognize her own name?

She couldn’t recall a single thing about her life, not even the auto accident that was apparently responsible for her current condition. As for her life before the accident, it was as if someone had reached inside her head and wiped her memory slate clean.

Post-traumatic amnesia, the neurologist called it, and when she’d asked how long it would last, his answer hadn’t been encouraging.

“The brain is a mysterious organ. One we still know so little about,” he’d told her. “Your condition could last a week, or a month. Or there’s a possibility that it could be permanent. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

She didn’t want to wait. She wanted answers now. Everyone kept telling her how lucky she’d been. Other than the head injury, she had escaped the accident relatively unscathed. A few bumps and bruises mostly. No broken bones or serious lacerations. No permanent physical scars. However, as she flipped through the television channels, knowing she must have favorite programs but seeing only unfamiliar faces, or as she picked at the food on her meal tray, clueless as to her likes and dislikes, she didn’t feel very lucky. In fact, she felt cursed. As though God was punishing her for some horrible thing that she couldn’t even remember doing.

The nurse checked her IV, jotted something on her chart, then told Melody, “Just buzz if you need anything.”

Answers, Melody thought as the nurse disappeared into the hall. All she wanted was answers.

She reached up and felt the inch-long row of stitches above her left ear where they had drilled a nickel-size hole to reduce the swelling on her brain, relieving the pressure that would have otherwise squeezed her damaged brain literally to death.

They had snatched her back from the brink of death, only now she wondered what kind of life they had snatched her back to. According to the social worker who had been in to see her, Melody had no living relatives. No siblings, no children, and no record of ever having been married. If she had friends or colleagues, she had no memory of them, and not a single person had come to visit her.

Had she always been this … alone?

Her address was listed as San Francisco, California—wherever that was—some sixteen hundred miles from the site of the accident. It perplexed her how she could still recognize words and numbers, while photos of the city she had supposedly lived in for three years drew a complete blank. She was also curious to know what she had been doing so far from home. A vacation maybe? Was she visiting friends? If so, wouldn’t they have been concerned when she never showed up?

Or was it something more sinister?

After waking from the coma, she’d dumped the contents of her purse on the bed, hoping something might spark a memory. She was stunned when, along with a wallet, nail file, hairbrush and a few tubes of lip gloss, a stack of cash an inch thick tumbled out from under the bottom lining. She quickly shoved it back in the bag before anyone could see, and later that night, when the halls had gone quiet, she counted it. There had been over four thousand dollars in various denominations.

Was she on the run? Had she done something illegal? Maybe knocked off a convenience station on the way out of town? If so, wouldn’t the police have arrested her by now? She was sure there was some perfectly logical explanation. But just in case, for now anyway, she was keeping her discovery to herself. She kept the bag in bed with her at all times, the strap looped firmly around her wrist.

Just in case.

Melody heard voices in the hallway outside her room and craned her neck to see who was there. Two men stood just outside her door. Dr. Nelson, her neurologist, and a second man she didn’t recognize. Which wasn’t unusual seeing as how she didn’t recognize anyone.

Could he be another doctor maybe? God knew she had seen her share in the past couple of days. But something about him, the way he carried himself, even though she only saw him in profile, told her he wasn’t a part of the hospital staff. This man was someone … important. Someone of a higher authority.

The first thing that came to mind of course was a police detective, and her heart did a somersault with a triple twist. Maybe the police had seen the money in her purse and they sent someone to question her. Then she realized that no one on a public servant’s pay could afford such an expensive suit. She didn’t even know how she knew that it was expensive, but she did. Somewhere deep down she instinctively knew she should recognize the clothes designer, yet the name refused to surface. And it didn’t escape her attention how well the man inside the suit wore it. She didn’t doubt it was tailored to fit him exclusively.

The man listened intently as the doctor spoke, nodding occasionally. Who could he be? Did he know her? He must, or why else would they be standing in her doorway?

The man turned in her direction, caught her blatantly staring, and when his eyes met hers, her heart did that weird flippy thing again. The only way to describe him was … intense. His eyes were clear and intelligent, his build long and lean, his features sharp and angular. And he was ridiculously attractive. Like someone straight off the television or the pages of her gossip mags.

He said a few words to the doctor, his eyes never straying from hers, then entered her room, walking to the bed, no hesitation or reserve, that air of authority preceding him like a living, breathing entity.

Whoever this man was, he knew exactly what he wanted, and she didn’t doubt he would go to any lengths to get it.

“You have a visitor, Melody.” Only when Dr. Nelson spoke did she realize he’d walked in, too.

The man stood silently beside her bed, watching her with eyes that were a striking combination of green and brown flecks rimmed in deep amber—as unique and intense as the rest of him.

He looked as though he expected her to say something. She wasn’t sure what though.

Dr. Nelson walked around to stand at the opposite side of her bed, his presence a comfort as she felt herself begin to wither under the stranger’s scrutiny. Why did he look at her that way? Almost as though he was angry with her.

“Does he look familiar to you?” Dr. Nelson asked.

He was undeniably easy on the eyes, but she couldn’t say that she’d ever seen him before. Melody shook her head. “Should he?”

The men exchanged a look, and for some reason her heart sank.

“Melody,” Dr. Nelson said, in a soothing and patient voice. “This Asher Williams. Your fiancé.”

Two

Melody shook her head, unwilling to accept what the doctor was telling her. She didn’t even know why. It just didn’t feel right. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if her being in an accident had somehow been a slight against him. Shouldn’t he be relieved that she was alive?

So where were his tears of joy? Why didn’t he gather her up and hold her?

“No, he isn’t,” she said.

The doctor frowned, and her so-called fiancé looked taken aback.

“You remember?” Dr. Nelson asked.

“No. But I just know. That man can’t be my fiancé.”

Tension hung like a foul odor in the room. No one seemed to know what to do or say next.

“Would you excuse us, Doctor?” her imposter fiancé said, and Melody felt a quick and sharp stab of panic. She didn’t want to be alone with him. Something about his presence was just so disconcerting.

“I’d like him to stay,” she said.

“Actually, I do have patients I need to see.” He flashed Melody an encouraging smile and gave her arm a gentle pat. “The nurse is just down the hall if you need anything.”

That wasn’t very reassuring. What did they even know about this man? Did they check out his story at all, or take him on his word? He could be a rapist or an ax murderer. A criminal who preyed on innocent women with amnesia. Or even worse, maybe he was the person she had taken that cash from. Maybe he was here for revenge.

She tucked her purse closer to her side under the covers, until she was practically sitting on it.

The phrase never show fear popped into her head, although from where, she didn’t have a clue. But it was smart advice, so she lifted her chin as he grabbed a chair and pulled it up to the side of her bed. He removed his jacket and draped it over the back before he sat down. He wasn’t a big man, more lean than muscular, so why did she feel this nervous energy? This instinct to run?

He eased the chair closer to her side and she instinctively jerked upright. So much for not showing fear. Even in repose the man had an assuming presence.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.

“Do you honestly expect me to just take your word that we’re engaged?” she asked. “You could be. anyone.”

“Do you have your driver’s license?”

“Why?”

He reached into his back pants pocket and she tensed again. “Relax. I’m just grabbing my wallet. Look at the address on my driver’s license.” He handed his wallet to her.

The first thing she noticed, as she flipped it open, was that there were no photos, nothing of a personal nature, and the second thing was the thick stack of cash tucked inside. And yes, the address on his license was the same as hers. She knew without checking her own license because she had read it over and over about a thousand times yesterday, hoping it would trigger some sort of memory. A visual representation of the place she’d lived.

Of course, it hadn’t.

She handed his wallet back to him, and he stuck it in his pocket. “That doesn’t prove anything. If we’re really engaged, where is my ring?” She held up her hand, so he could see her naked finger. A man of his obvious wealth would have bought the woman he planned to marry a huge rock.

He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a ring box. He snapped it open and inside was a diamond ring with a stone so enormous and sparkly it nearly took her breath away. “One of the prongs came loose and it was at the jeweler’s being repaired.”

He handed it to her, but she shook her head. She still wasn’t ready to accept this. Although, what man would offer what must have been a ridiculously expensive ring to a woman who wasn’t his fiancée?

Of course, one quick thwack with the ax and it would easily be his again.

She cringed and chastised herself for the gruesome thought.

“Maybe you should hang on to it for now, just to be safe,” she told him.

“No. I don’t care if you believe me or not.” He rose from his chair and reached for her hand, and it took everything in her not to flinch. “This belongs to you.”

The ring slid with ease on her finger. A perfect fit. Could it just be a coincidence? It was becoming increasingly difficult not to believe him.

“I have these, too,” he said, leaning down to take a stack of photos from the inside of his jacket. He gave them to her, then sat back down.

The pictures were indeed of her and this Asher person. She skimmed them, and in each and every one they were either smiling or laughing or … oh, my … some were rather racy in nature.

Her cheeks blushed brightly and a grin quirked up the corner of his mouth. “I included a few from our personal collection, so there wouldn’t be any doubt.”

In one of the shots Asher wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs and the sight of all that lean muscle and smooth skin caused an unexpected jab of longing that she felt deep inside her belly. A memory, maybe, or just a natural female reaction to the sight of an attractive man.

“I have video, as well,” he said. She was going to ask what kind of video, but his expression said it all. The look in his eyes was so steamy it nearly melted her. “Due to their scandalous nature, I felt it best to leave them at home,” he added.

Melody couldn’t imagine she was the type of woman who would let herself be photographed, or even worse videotaped, in a compromising position with a man she didn’t trust completely.

Maybe Asher Williams really was her fiancé.

Ash’s first suspicion, when the doctor told him Melody had amnesia, was that she was faking it. But then he asked himself, why would she? What logical reason did she have to pretend that she didn’t know him? Besides, he doubted that anyone in her physical condition could convincingly fabricate the look of bewildered shock she wore when the doctor told her Ash was her fiancé.

Of course, she had managed to keep the baby she was carrying a secret, and the affair she’d been having. After the initial shock of her betrayal had worn off, he’d felt nothing but seething, bone-deep anger. After all he had done for her—paying her living expenses and college tuition, giving her credit cards to purchase everything her greedy heart had desired, taking care of her for three years—how could she so callously betray him?

Coincidentally, just like his ex-wife. He hadn’t had a clue then either. One would think he’d have learned his lesson the first time. And though his first instinct had been to walk out the door and never look back, he’d had an even better idea.

This time he would get revenge.

He would keep up the ruse of their engagement and take Melody home. He would make her fall in love with him, depend on him, then he would betray her, just as cold-heartedly and callously as she had him. And he wouldn’t lose a single night’s sleep over it.

“What was I doing in Texas alone?” Melody asked him, still not totally convinced.

Ash had anticipated this question and had an answer already prepared. “A research trip.”

“Research for what?”

“A paper you were working on for school.”

She looked puzzled. “I go to school?”

“You’re in law school.”

“I am?” she asked, looking stunned.

“You have a year to go before you take the bar exam.”

Her brow furrowed and she reached up to rub her temple. “Not if I can’t remember anything I’ve learned.”

“I don’t care what the doctors say,” he told her, taking her hand, and this time she didn’t flinch. “You’ll get your memory back.”

Her grateful smile almost filled him with guilt. Almost.

“So you just let me go on this trip, no questions asked?”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “I trust you, Mel.”

The comment hit its mark, and the really pathetic thing was that it used to be true. He never would have guessed that Melody would do something like this to him.

“How long was I gone?”

“A few weeks,” he lied. “I began to worry when you stopped answering your phone. I tried to find you myself, but that went nowhere fast. I was beside myself with worry, Mel. I thought something terrible had happened. I thought … I thought that you were dead. That I would never see you again.” The fabricated emotion in his voice sounded genuine, even to his own ears, and Melody was eating it up. “The police were no help, so I hired a private detective.”

“And here you are.”

He nodded. “Here I am. And I would really like to hold my fiancée. If she would let me.”

Melody bit her lip, and with gratitude in her eyes, held her arms out. She bought his bull—hook, line and sinker. This was almost too easy.

Ash rose from his chair and sat on the edge of her bed, and when he took her in his arms and she melted against him, soft and warm and a little fragile, he had a flash of something that felt like relief, or maybe satisfaction, then he reminded himself exactly what it was that brought them to this place. How deeply she had betrayed him. His first instinct was to push her away, but he had to play the role of the loving fiancé.

She let her head rest on his shoulder and her arms slipped around his back. The contour of her body felt so familiar to him, and he couldn’t help wondering what it must have been like for her, holding a stranger. Some deep place inside him wanted to feel sympathy, but she had brought this on herself. If she hadn’t cheated on him, hadn’t stolen away like a criminal, she never would have been in the accident and everything would be normal.

As her arms tightened around him, he did notice that she felt frailer than before, as though not only had she lost pounds, but muscle mass. Their building had an exercise room and as long as Ash had known her, Melody had been almost fanatical about staying in shape. He wondered if this would be a blow to her ego.

But how could it be if she didn’t even remember she had an ego? Or maybe that was something that was inborn.

Under the circumstances Ash didn’t expect the embrace to last long, and he kept waiting for her to pull away. Instead she moved closer, held him tighter, and after a moment he realized that she was trembling.

“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting a hand to stroke her hair.

“I’m scared,” she said, her voice small and soft. Melody wasn’t a crier—in three years together he could recall only two times he’d even seen the sheen of moisture in her eyes—but he could swear that now he heard tears in her voice.

“What are you scared of?” he asked, stroking her hair and her back, pretending to comfort her, when in reality he felt that she was getting exactly what she deserved.

“Everything,” she said. “I’m afraid of all I don’t know, and everything I need to learn. What if I’m never.” She shook her head against his chest.

He held her away from him, so he could see her face. Melody was a fighter. Much like himself, when she wanted something, she went after it with all pistons firing. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place. But right now, he couldn’t recall ever seeing her look more pale and distraught, and he actually had to harden his heart to keep from feeling sorry for her.

She had brought this on herself.

“If you never what?” he asked.

Her eyes were full of uncertainty. “What if I can’t be the person I was before? What if the accident changed me? What will I do with my life? Who will I be?”

Not the heartless betrayer she had been before the accident. Not if he had anything to do with it. He would break her spirit, so no other man would have to suffer the same humiliation he had.

A tear spilled over onto her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb, cradling her cheek in his palm. “Why don’t you concentrate on getting better? Everything will work out. I promise.”

Looking as though she desperately wanted to believe him, she leaned her head back down and sighed against his shoulder. And maybe she did believe him, because she was no longer shaking.

“I’m getting sleepy,” she said.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve had an eventful morning. Why don’t you lie down?”

He helped her lie back against the pillows. She did look exhausted. Mentally and physically.

He pulled the covers up and tucked them around her, much the way his mother had for him when he was a boy. When he’d been sick, and weakened by the radiation, she’d somehow managed to be there every evening to kiss him goodnight, despite working two, and sometimes three jobs at a time to keep their heads above water. Until she’d literally worked herself to death.

Though Ash was declared cancer free by his thirteenth birthday, the medical bills had mounted. His father had been too lazy and most times too drunk to hold down a job, so the responsibility of taking care of them had fallen solely on his mother. And due to their debt, annual trips to the doctor for preventative care that wasn’t covered by their insurance had been a luxury she couldn’t afford. By the time she’d begun getting symptoms and the cancer was discovered, it had already metastasized and spread to most of her major organs. The news had sent his father into a downward spiral, and it was left up to Ash to take care of her.

Eight months later, and barely a week after Ash graduated from high school, she was gone. For years, he felt partially responsible for her death. Had it not been for his own cancer, they might have caught hers sooner, when it was still treatable.

The day of his mother’s funeral was the day Ash had written his father out of his life for good. His aunt had contacted him several years later to let him know that his father had passed away. Advanced liver cirrhosis. Ash didn’t go to the funeral.

By then Ash was living in California, and going to school. Like his mother, he worked two and three jobs to make ends meet. Despite that, he’d somehow managed to maintain a near-perfect GPA. After graduation he’d married his college sweetheart and landed a job with Maddox Communications, convinced he was living the American dream. Unfortunately things had not been what they seemed.

The day he was offered the position of CFO, what should have been one of the best days of his life, he’d learned that his wife was having an affair. She’d claimed she did it because she was lonely. He’d worked such long hours he was never there for her. She sure hadn’t minded spending the money he earned working those long hours, though. Not to mention, when he had been home, the “I have a headache” excuse was a regular. The irony of it would have been laughable had he not been so completely devastated.

Granted, theirs had never been a particularly passionate marriage, but he’d thought they were relatively happy. Apparently not. And the worst part had been that he hadn’t suspected a thing.

Ash had thought he was through with women for good, but only a few months after the divorce was final he met Melody. She was young and beautiful and bright, and he was fascinated by her spunk and enthusiasm. Probably because he saw much of himself mirrored back in her eyes.

They had come from similar humble beginnings, and, like him, she was determined to succeed. They’d started dating in early April. The last week of May when the sublet on her apartment expired, he’d suggested she stay with him until she found another place, and she just never left.

Since then they seemed to have an unwritten understanding. She made herself accessible to him in any capacity necessary with no strings attached. There were no sentiments of love or talk of marriage, no questions or accusations when he worked late or cancelled a date. In return he provided financial security.

At times, he couldn’t help thinking he was getting the better end of the deal. Not only did he have a willing mistress at his disposal 24/7, he also had the satisfaction of knowing that he was helping her make something of her life. If his mother had someone like that, someone to take care of her, she might still be alive.

Helping Melody had, in his own way, been a tribute to his mother. An homage to her strength and character, and as far as he was concerned, Melody had betrayed her, too.

He gazed down at Melody and realized she was sound asleep. For several minutes he just watched her, wondering what could have driven her to be unfaithful to him. When had she changed her mind, and decided that she wanted more than what they had? And why hadn’t she just told him the truth? If she’d truly wanted out, he would have respected that. He wouldn’t have liked it, and he would have tried to talk her out of leaving, but he would have eventually let her go. No strings attached.

Instead she had thrown back in his face everything he had ever done for her.

“How is she?” someone asked, and Ash turned to see Dr. Nelson standing in the doorway.

“Sleeping.”

“I just wanted to stop back in once more before I left.”

“I’m glad you did. We never discussed when I could take her home. I’d like to make travel arrangements.”

He gestured Ash into the hall. “If she continues to improve, I would say a week to ten days.”

“That long? She seems to be doing so well.”

“She suffered a severe brain injury. You can’t necessarily see the damage, but believe me, it’s there.” He paused then added, “When you say home, I assume you mean California.”

“Of course.”

“You should know that flying will be out of the question.”

“Not even in my company’s private jet?”

“She had a brain bleed. The change in pressure could very literally kill her. Frankly, I’m not crazy about the idea of her being on the road for that long either, but I guess there aren’t any other options.”

Sixteen hundred miles trapped in a car together. Not his idea of fun. Besides, he wanted to get her home and settled before she remembered something. If she ever did.

“I was wondering,” Ash said. “If she does regain her memory, how long will it take?”

“There’s no definitive answer that I can give you, Mr. Williams. If she does regain any memories, it can be a slow and sometimes traumatic process. Just be thankful that she’s doing as well as she is. It will just take time and patience.”

Unfortunately he had little of either.

“Even if she doesn’t regain her memories,” he added, “there’s no reason to expect that you two won’t live a long and happy life together regardless.”

Actually, there was one damned good reason. Whether she remembered it or not, Melody had crossed him. It was time she got a taste of her own medicine.

But to make this work, Ash had a bit of cleaning up to do first.

Three

When Melody opened her eyes again, Ash wasn’t in the room. She had the sudden, terrifying sensation that everything that had happened earlier was a dream or a hallucination. Then she lifted her hand, saw the diamond on her ring finger and relief washed over her.

It was real.

But where did Ash go? She pushed herself up on her elbows to look around and saw the note he’d left on the tray beside her:

Went to get your things. Back later to see you.

XOXO

Ash

She wondered where he was going to get them, then realized she must have been staying in a hotel when she’d had her accident. But that was more than two weeks ago. Wouldn’t they have discarded her things by now? Did hotels hang on to the items abandoned by their customers?

She hoped so. Maybe there was something among her things that would spark a memory, and she was interested to see this so-called research Ash had been talking about. Not that she didn’t believe him. It was just that something about this whole scenario was … off.

If what he said was true, and she was only here for school, what was she doing with four thousand dollars hidden in the lining of her purse? Was she trying to bribe someone, or buy information? Had she gotten herself into something illegal that she had been afraid to tell him? What if her accident hadn’t been an accident after all?

And even worse, what if the person she was trying to get away from was Ash?

She realized just how ridiculous that sounded and that she was letting her imagination run away from her. She’d seen the photos; they were obviously very happy together. She was sure that the expression she’d mistaken for anger when he’d first entered her room was just his reaction to learning that she didn’t remember him. After all, how would she feel if the man she had planned to spend the rest of her life with forgot who she was? Then insisted that she supply proof of their relationship? That would be devastating.

There were other things that disturbed her, as well. It seemed as though the news that she was in law school would evoke some sort of emotion. If not excitement, then maybe mild curiosity. Instead she’d just felt … disconnected. As though he were talking about another woman’s life. One she had little interest in. And in a way maybe she was.

She was sure that once she got home and back into a regular routine, things would come back to her. She would be more interested in things like her career and her hobbies. If she had any hobbies. She hadn’t even thought to ask him. There were all sorts of things he could tell her about her life.

She heard footsteps in the hall, her spirits lifting when she thought it might be Ash, but it was only the nurse.

“I see you’re awake,” she said with her usual cheery disposition. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said, and it was true. She still had a million questions, but at least now she knew that when she was discharged from the hospital, she would have somewhere to go. There was someone out there who loved and cared about her.

“I saw your fiancé,” the nurse said as she checked Melody’s IV. “He’s very handsome. But that just stands to reason, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Well, because you’re so pretty.”

“I am?”

The nurse laughed. “Well, of course you are.”

She made it sound so obvious, but when Melody had seen her reflection the other day, the only thing she noticed was that a stranger’s eyes stared back at her. She didn’t stop to consider whether she was attractive. It just didn’t seem important at the time.

“I hear that you’re in law school,” the nurse said, jotting something down on Melody’s chart. “I never would have guessed.”

“Why is that?”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess you just don’t seem the type. I think of lawyers as pushy and overbearing. You’re not like that at all.”

She wondered what she was like, but she was a little afraid to ask.

The nurse closed her chart and asked, “Is there anything you need?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well, you ring if you need me.”

When she was gone Melody considered what she said. What if she really wasn’t cut out to be a lawyer? Would she be throwing all those years of school down the toilet?

But honestly, what did the nurse know of her? She was not going to plan the rest of her life around a comment made by someone who had known her for less than three days. And not at her best, obviously. Maybe when she was back on her feet and feeling like her old self she would be lawyer material again. A real shark.

Or, as she had considered earlier, maybe the accident had changed her.

There was really no point in worrying about it now. Like the doctor said, she needed to concentrate on healing. It was sage advice, because the sooner she got back to her life, the sooner she would get her memory back. And in the meantime she was sure, with a fiancé like Ash to take care of her, everything was going to be okay.

Ash stood in the impound lot at the Abilene police station, heart in the pit of his stomach, knees weak, looking at what was left of Melody’s Audi Roadster. Suddenly he understood why everyone kept saying that she was lucky to be alive.

Not only was it totaled, it was barely recognizable. He knew it was a rollover accident, he just hadn’t realized how far it had rolled, and the momentum it had gained by the time it hit the tree that had ultimately stopped it. The passenger’s side was pretty much gone, completely crushed inward.

Had she hit the tree on the driver’s side, there was no doubt she wouldn’t have survived. Also, Mel always drove with the top down, but apparently it had been raining, so when she flipped over there was at least something there to keep her from snapping her neck. Although just barely, because the top, too, was crushed, and at some point had come loose and was hanging by a single bolt.

He hated Melody for what she had done to him, but he wouldn’t wish an accident like this on his worst enemy.

According to the police, she’d tried to swerve out of the way when she saw the bike. Unfortunately it had been too late.

He walked over and peered in the driver’s side, immediately seeing what he was looking for. He tried the door but it was hopelessly jammed. With one hand he pushed the top out of the way then reached around the steering wheel and grabbed the keys from the ignition. He hit the release for the trunk, but it didn’t budge, and he had no better luck with the key. If there was anything in there, she was going to have to live without it.

He turned to walk back to the entrance, then as an afterthought, walked back and snapped some pictures with his phone. The matter had already been reported to his insurance company, but it never hurt to be thorough and keep a record for his own reference.

When he was back in his rental car, he punched the address the P.I. had given him into the GPS and followed the commands until he was parked in front of a house about fifteen minutes from the hospital.

The house itself was tiny but well-kept, although the neighborhood left a lot to be desired. How could she go from a penthouse condo to living in what was barely a step above a slum? To be with her lover? If so, the guy had to be a loser. Although if she had come here to be with her lover, why hadn’t he been at the hospital with her?

Well, if there was someone else there, he was about to find out.

There were no cars in the driveway, and the curtains were drawn. He walked to the front door with purpose, slid the key in, and opened it. The first thing that hit him was a rush of cool air punctuated by the rancid stench of rotting food. At that point he knew it was safe to assume that she lived alone. No one would be able to stand the odor.

Covering his face with a handkerchief, he walked through a small living room with outdated, discountstore furniture, snapping on lights and opening windows as he made to the kitchen. He saw the culprit right away, an unopened package of ground beef on a faded, worn countertop, next to a stove that was probably older than him. She must have taken it out to thaw right before the accident.

He opened the kitchen window, then, for the landlord’s sake he grabbed the package and tossed it in the freezer. He was sure the contents of the fridge were similarly frightening, but since neither he nor Mel would be returning, he didn’t feel compelled to check.

There was nothing else remarkable about the room, so he moved on to explore the rest of the house.

The bathroom counter was covered with various toiletries that he didn’t recognize—and why would he when they didn’t share a bathroom—but everything was distinctly feminine. He checked the medicine chest and the cabinet below the sink but there was no evidence that a man had ever lived there.

He searched her bedroom next, finding more old and tacky furniture, and an unmade bed. Which was odd because back home she always kept things tidy and spotless. He found a lot of familiar-looking clothes in the closet and drawers, but again, nothing to suggest she’d had any male companionship. Not even a box of condoms in the bedside table. He and Melody had at one time kept them handy, but not for quite some time. They were monogamous, and he was sterile, so there really never seemed a point.

She had obviously had unprotected sex with someone, or she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant. It hadn’t even occurred to him earlier, but now he wondered if he should go get himself tested for STDs. Melody had callously put her own health and his in jeopardy. One more thing to hold against her.

He searched the entire room, top to bottom, but didn’t find the one thing he was looking for. He was about to leave when, as an afterthought, Ash pulled back the comforter on the bed and hit pay dirt.

Melody’s computer.

In the past he would have never betrayed her trust by looking through her computer. He respected her privacy, just as she respected his. But she had lost that particular privilege when she betrayed him. Besides, the information it contained might be the only clue as to who she was sleeping with. The only explanation as to why she left him. She owed him that much.

He wanted to look at it immediately but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the stench and he still had to pack Melody’s things. Most of her clothes he would ship home and have his secretary put away, keeping only a smaller bag in Texas, to make his two-week trip story more believable.

He looked at his watch and realized he was going to have to get moving if he was going to get back to the hospital before visiting hours were over. Though he was exhausted, and wanted nothing more that to go back to the hotel and take a hot shower, he had to play the role of the doting fiancé.

He crammed her things into the suitcases he found stored in her bedroom closet, shoved everything into the trunk of his rental car to sort later, then headed back to the hospital, but when he got there she was sleeping. Realizing that he hadn’t eaten since that morning—and then only a hurried fast-food sandwich before his flight boarded—rather than eat an overpriced, sub-par meal in the cafeteria, he found a family diner a few blocks away. It wasn’t the Ritz, but the food was decent, and he had the sneaking suspicion he would be eating there a lot in the next week to ten days. When he got back to Mel’s room she was awake, sitting up and clearly relieved and excited to see him. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it back.”

“I said in my note that I would be back. I just had a few things to take care of.” He pulled up a chair but she patted the bed for him to sit beside her.

She looked a lot better than she had earlier. Her eyes were brighter and there was more color in her cheeks, and as he sat, he noticed that her hair was damp. As if reading his mind, she said, “They let me take a shower. It felt so wonderful. And tomorrow they want me to start walking, to get the strength back in my legs.”

“That’s good, right?”

“The nurse said the sooner I’m up and moving around on my own, the sooner they’ll discharge me.” She reached for his hand, and he had no choice but to take it. “I can hardly wait to go home. I’m sure that once I’m there, I’ll start to remember things.”

He hoped not. At least, not for a while. That could definitely complicate things. “I’m sure it will,” he told her.

“Did the hotel still have my things?” she asked hopefully.

“Hotel?”

Her brow furrowed. “I just assumed I was staying at a hotel, while I did my research.”

He cursed himself for letting his guard down. The last thing he wanted was to rouse her suspicions. He swiftly backpedaled.

“You were. I just thought for a second that you remembered something. And yes, they did. Your suitcase is in the trunk of my car. I’ll keep it at my hotel until you’re released.”

“What about my research? Were there papers or files or anything?”

“Not that I saw,” he said, realizing that the lies were coming easier now. “But your laptop was there.”

Her eyes lit with excitement. “There might be something on it that will shake my memory!”

“I thought of that. I booted it up, but it’s password protected, so unless you remember the password….” He watched as Melody’s excitement fizzled away. “Tell you what,” he said. “When we get back to San Francisco I’ll have the tech people at work take a look at it. Maybe they can hack their way in.”

“Okay,” she agreed, looking a little less defeated, but he could see that she was disappointed.

In reality, he would be calling work at his soonest convenience and with any luck one of the tech guys could walk him through hacking the system himself. Only after he removed anything pertaining to the baby or the affair, or anything personal that might jog her memory, would he let her have it back.

It would be easier to have the hard drive reformatted, but that might look too suspicious. He’d thought of not mentioning the laptop at all, but it stood to reason that since she was a student, she would have one.

He could have lied and said it was destroyed in the accident, but unfortunately it was too late for that now.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Can you tell me about myself?”

“Like what?”

“My family, my friends, where I’m from. Anything.”

The truth was, despite living together for three years, he didn’t know a heck of a lot about Melody. If she had friends at school, she didn’t mention them, and when she wasn’t in school, he really wasn’t sure what she did with her time, other than cooking his dinners, cleaning their condo and of course shopping. She had always kept personal things pretty close to the vest. Either that or he had just never thought to ask.

But she looked so hopeful, he had to come up with something.

“Your mom died before I met you,” he told her. “Ovarian cancer, I think. You told me that you never knew your real father, but you’d had something like five or six stepfathers growing up.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. Where did I grow up?”

He struggled to remember what she had told him when they first met. “All over, I think. You said that she moved you around a lot. I know you resented it.”

Just as he had resented so many things from his own childhood. The cancer not even being the worst of it. But he was in no mood to dredge that up. Besides, she had no idea that he’d been sick. It just never came up. He and Mel knew each other, especially in the biblical sense, but they didn’t really know each other.

He’d been so sure that was the way he’d wanted it, so jaded by his marriage, he never considered that he might want more. Not until it was too late.

Four

Melody had this look, like the playground bully had just stolen her candy. “Wow. It sounds like I had a pretty lousy childhood.”

Ash felt a jab of guilt for painting such a grim picture.

“I’m sure there were good things,” he told her. “You just never talked about it much.”

“How did we meet?”

The memory brought a smile to his face. Now, this was something he remembered. “A company party. At Maddox Communications.”

“That’s where you work, right?”

He nodded. “You were there with some cocky junior rep. Brent somebody. A real jerk. But the instant I saw you standing by the bar, wearing this slinky little black number, I couldn’t look away. Hell, every man in the room had their eye on you. He was droning on, probably thinking he was hot shit because he was with the sexiest woman at the party, and you had this look like you were counting the minutes until you could send him and his overinflated ego packing. You looked over and saw me watching you. You gave me a thorough once-over, then flashed me this sexy smile.”

Her eyes went wide. “I did that?”

Her surprise made him laugh. “Yeah. At that point I had no choice but to rescue you. So I walked over and asked you to dance.”

“How did my date feel about that?”

Ash grinned, recalling the shocked look on the kid’s face, the indignant glare as Ash led Mel onto the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. “He didn’t look very happy.”

“What did he do?”

“What could he do? I was CFO, he was a lowly junior rep. I could have squashed him. Although, if memory serves, someone else eventually did. I don’t think he lasted long with the firm.”

“So we danced?” she said, a dreamy look on her face.

“All night.” Ash had been the envy of every man at the party. At the time he’d still been reeling from his divorce and the ego boost was a welcome one. It wasn’t until later that he realized just how thorough of a boost she intended to give him.

“Then what happened?” she asked.

“You asked if you could see my office, so I took you there. The instant the door closed we were all over each other.”

She swallowed hard, looking as scandalized as she was intrigued. And maybe a little turned on, too. “Then what?”

“You really have to ask?”

“We had sex in your office?” she asked in a hushed voice, as if she worried someone would overhear. “Right after we met?”

This from the woman who had never hesitated to tell him exactly what she wanted, when she wanted it, in the bluntest of sexual terms. Language that would make a lot of women blush. Or blanch.

He grinned and nodded. “On the desk, on the sofa, in my chair. Up against the plate-glass window overlooking the bay.”

Her cheeks flushed bright pink. “We did it against a window? “

“You’ve always had voyeuristic tendencies.” He’d never met a woman more confident, more comfortable in her own skin, than Melody. Though he would never admit it aloud, her brazen nature could be the slightest bit intimidating at times.

But obviously now something had changed. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that he’d never seen before. A hesitance she had never shown. Truth be told, he kind of liked it. And maybe it softened him up just a little. He may have supported Mel for the past three years, but he would never make the mistake of thinking that she depended on him. Had she not met him, she would have managed just fine on her own.

He’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone need him.

“I can’t believe I slept with you on the first date,” she said. “I can’t imagine what you must have thought of me.”

“Actually, with my divorce barely final, it was exactly what I needed.”

“You were married before?”

“For seven years.”

“Why did you split up?”

“I guess you could say it was due to a total lack of appreciation.”

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t appreciate the hours I worked, and I didn’t appreciate her screwing her personal trainer in my bed.”

She sucked in a surprised breath, clearly outraged on his behalf. “She cheated on you?”

“For quite some time as I understand it.” He wondered how Melody would feel if she knew she had done the same thing? Although, as far as he knew, never in his bed. But that was just geography. Cheating was cheating.

Melody tightened her grip on his hand. He hadn’t even realized she was holding it. It occurred to him suddenly how cozy this little scenario had become. Too cozy for his liking.

He pulled his hand free and looked at his watch. “It’s late. I should let you get some sleep.”

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked, looking troubled. “Because if it bothers you to talk about your ex, we can talk about something else.”

Frankly, he was all talked out. He wasn’t sure what else to say to her. And he wished she would stop being so. nice. Not that she hadn’t been nice before, but she’d always had an edge. A sharp wit and a razor-edged tongue. Now she was being so sweet and understanding, she was making it tough for him to hold on to his anger. To be objective.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. It’s just, well, it’s been a really long day. Maybe I’m the one who’s tired.”

“I’m sorry, I’m being selfish,” she said, looking truly apologetic. “I didn’t even take into consideration how hard this has been for you.”

“It has been a long couple of weeks not knowing where you were,” he said, which only made her look more guilty. “I’m sure I’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

“Go,” she said, making a shooing gesture. “Get some sleep.”

“Are you sure? I can stay longer if you want me to.”

“No. I’m tired anyway. I’ll probably watch a few minutes of television then fall asleep.”

He had the distinct feeling she was lying, because honestly, she didn’t look the least bit tired. But he wasn’t going to argue.

“I’ll be back first thing tomorrow,” he assured her, rising from the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” she said, her expression earnest.

“For what?”

“Telling me those things about myself. It makes me feel a little less … lost. Even if it wasn’t quite what I expected.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and leaned down to brush a kiss across her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As he walked from the room he heard the television click on. He couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit guilty for leaving her alone, but he had a charade to plan.

It turned out that Ash didn’t need the help of the tech guys at Maddox Communications to hack into Melody’s computer. After only five or six tries, he figured the password out all by himself. His birthday. The fact that it was something so simple surprised him a little, but he was grateful.

His first task was to remove evidence of Melody’s affair from her computer, only she must have been very careful because he found nothing, not even a phone number or an entry in her calendar, that suggested she was sneaking around.

As for the baby, there were a few doctor appointments listed on her calendar, and the history in her Internet browser showed visits to several children’s furniture store sites and a site called Mom-to-be.com, where it appeared she had been tracking her pregnancy—she was fourteen weeks and four days on the day of the accident—and blogging on a page for single mothers.

Apparently she had every intention of doing this alone. Was it possible that the father of the baby was nothing more than a one-night stand? A glorified sperm donor?

He skimmed the entries she had written, hoping to find a clue as to who the man was, or the circumstances surrounding their relationship. But after more than an hour of reading, all he’d learned was that the baby’s father was, in her words, not involved. He noted that some of the earlier posts dated back to the weeks before she left him. It was also clear, by the tone of her posts, that she was very excited to be a mother, which surprised him.

She had always been so independent and career focused, he didn’t think she even wanted a family. Of course, that was never something they talked about. Maybe because she knew that if she wanted children, she wouldn’t be having them with him. Not naturally anyway. Knowing that he couldn’t father a child of his own, he’d resigned himself to the idea of not having them at all.

What he found even more disturbing than the information about the baby was a file folder with electronic copies of her report cards. They dated back the past four semesters. Whenever Ash asked her about school, which admittedly wasn’t very often, Mel claimed things were going great. Which was hard to believe now that he saw that she had been clinging to a low C average, when he knew for a fact that in her first year she’d never scored anything lower than an A minus.

It was as if she had lost her interest in the law. But if that was the case, why hadn’t she said anything? It was true that they didn’t normally talk about those kinds of things, but going to school for a career she no longer wanted seemed worth mentioning. Especially when he was shelling out the money for her tuition.

The more Ash looked through her files and read her e-mails, the more he began to realize that after three years together, he barely knew Melody. She lived a life that, outside the bedroom, had little to do with him. And though that was the way he’d always wanted it, he couldn’t help but feel … indignant. And maybe a little angry with himself for not taking the time to get to know her better.

He may have been there for her financially, but even he had to admit that emotionally, he’d been pretty much vacant.

Which was exactly what they had agreed to going into this relationship, so he had no absolutely no reason to feel as though he had wronged her somehow.

If that was true, why did he feel like such a jerk?

Maybe his ex was right. Maybe he’d been too cold and distant. Maybe he used work as an escape from dealing with the ups and downs of his personal relationships. And maybe, like his ex-wife, Melody had grown tired of the distance. Tired of being alone.

Regardless of what she felt, that was no excuse to be unfaithful. If she wanted more, she should have leveled with him. Although for the life of him, he wasn’t sure what he would have told her. If she had given him an ultimatum—a real relationship or she would find someone new—would he have been able to just let her go? A real relationship just seemed like so much work. More than he had time for.

But he was here now, wasn’t he? He had made the time for this. Didn’t that tell him something?

Sure it did, he just wasn’t sure what. But he knew that at some point he was going to have to figure it out. Maybe it was simply that being with Melody had been very easy, and he wasn’t quite ready to give that up.

Unfortunately, remembering how good things had been made her betrayal sting that much more.

Just as he promised, Ash was back at the hospital as soon as visiting hours began the next morning. He was dressed casually this time, in slacks and a silk, button-down shirt. And she could tell, as he walked into the room, a sly grin on his face, that he was holding something behind his back. Probably flowers.

“Wow, you look great,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t just saying it to be nice because the nurse had said the same thing.

“I feel really good,” she admitted, and she was pretty sure it had a lot to do with him. Before he came to see her yesterday she had felt so depressed and alone. As though she had nothing to look forward to, no reason to get better. Everything was different now. She was engaged to be married, and had a home to return to. A whole life to explore and relearn. What more could she ask for?

“I got my appetite back in a big way. I just finished breakfast and I’m already anxious for lunch. Although I have to say, the food here leaves a lot to be desired.”

“There’s a diner a few blocks from here that has decent food. Maybe I can pick you up something for lunch, if it’s okay with your doctor.”

“I’ll make sure the nurse asks him. I could go for a big juicy burger and greasy French fries.”

“I didn’t know you liked burgers and fries.”

“What do I usually eat?”

“Salads and chicken mostly. Occasionally you’ll have red meat, but not more than once a week. You’ve always been extremely health conscious.”

“Well, I keep seeing these fast-food ads and every time they show a burger my mouth starts to water. I’ll worry about being health conscious when I’m out of the hospital.” Which was a completely backward way of looking at it, she realized, but she didn’t even care. Eating like a rabbit wouldn’t build her strength and get her the heck out of here.

“A burger and fries it is then,” he said, and he was still hiding whatever it was he was holding behind his back.

“So, are you going to show me what you’ve got there, or make me guess?” she asked.

“You mean this?” he asked, his smile widening as he pulled a laptop from behind him.

“Is that mine?” she asked and he nodded. “I thought it was password protected. Did you talk to the guys at work already?”

He set it in her lap. “I didn’t have to. I made a few educated guesses and figured it out for myself.”

She squealed with excitement. “Oh, my gosh! You’re my hero!”

He regarded her quizzically, as if she had just said something totally off the wall.

“What?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sorry. I just never imagined you as the kind of a woman who would have a hero. You’re far too self-sufficient.”

“Well, I do now,” she said with a smile. “And it’s you.”

She opened the laptop and pressed the button to boot it up, relieved that at least she recalled how. When the password screen popped up, she looked to Ash.

“Type in one, one, nineteen, seventy-five.”

“What is it?”

“My birthday.”

I guess it made sense that she would use her fiancé’s birthday as a password. Unless she didn’t want him getting into her files, which obviously wasn’t an issue. She typed the digits in and the system screen popped up. “It worked!”

“You remember how to use it?”

She nodded. Like so many other things, navigating the computer just seemed to come naturally. She only hoped that the information it contained would spark other memories. Personal memories.

“I’m going to head down to the gift store and see if they have a Wall Street Journal,” Ash said, and Melody nodded, only half listening as she began opening files on her desktop. “If they don’t, I might try to find one at the party store around the block.”

“‘Kay,” she said. “Take your time.”

She started with her e-mail, thinking saved messages would hold the most information, but there weren’t many. And of the dozen or so, most were from Ash. It seemed a little strange, especially being in school, that she didn’t have more, but it was always possible she kept them on an off-site server for safekeeping. Especially if they were for her supposed research, and were of a high security nature.

Or maybe her imagination was getting the best of her again.

She opened her calendar next, going back for several months, and found nothing but her school schedule, a few theater and party dates with Ash, and of course her research trip, which according to this should have ended a few days after her accident. She also found a recent appointment with a wedding planner that they had missed, and realized that not only were they engaged, but apparently they had already set a date. One they would probably be forced to postpone now.

She quit out of her calendar and opened her photo file, but either she kept her pictures online or on a disk, or she wasn’t a very sentimental person, because there were very few. Shots of herself and Ash, mostly. None of friends or fellow students. And none of family, which was no surprise since she didn’t have any.

She did have a vast music library, and while she liked the various songs she sampled, she didn’t relate them to any specific memories or events.

She went through file after file, but not a single thing, not even her school papers, looked familiar to her. She tried to be logical about it. She had barely been out of her coma for four days and the doctor had said it would take time. Logically she knew this, and she was trying to heed his advice. Emotionally though, she felt like putting her fist through the nearest wall.

“I hope you’re not doing schoolwork already!” the nurse said as she walked in to check Melody’s IV. Which was kind of a ridiculous notion, since not only would Melody not have a clue what work had been assigned, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have any idea how to do it. She didn’t remember anything about the law. But she had to cut the nurse some slack. It probably wasn’t often she dealt with amnesia patients.

“I’m just looking at photos and things,” Melody told her. “I was hoping I would remember something.”

“That’s a great idea! How’s it going?”

“Nothing so far.”

She hung a fresh IV bag and tossed the empty one in the trash by the sink. “Dr. Nelson would like to see you up and moving around today. But only with assistance,” she added sternly.

Melody wouldn’t dare try it alone. When she’d taken her shower earlier the nurse had to help her, and she had to shower sitting down. Her legs felt like limp spaghetti noodles and she was so dizzy she was having trouble staying upright.

“We could take a few practice steps right now,” the nurse suggested, a not-so-subtle nudge, but Melody wasn’t quite ready to put her computer aside.

“Could we maybe do it after lunch?” she asked.

“All right, but don’t put it off too long. You need to rebuild your strength.”

Melody knew that better than everyone else. And though walking might still be a challenge, she could feel herself improving by leaps and bounds. She gave most of the credit to Ash.

He’d given her something to fight for.

Five

After the nurse left, Melody went back to the photo file on her computer and opened a few of herself and Ash. When she looked at herself, it was still a bit like looking at a stranger. It was her, but not exactly her.

Her clothes were obviously expensive and quite form-fitting. The healthy eating must have paid off because she was very trim and fit—although now, after being in the coma, she looked a little gaunt. She seemed to like to show off her cleavage, which admittedly she had a fair amount of. She peeked under her hospital gown at her breasts and decided that she must own some pretty amazing push-up bras.

In the photos her hair was always fixed in a sleek and chic style that she couldn’t help thinking must have taken ages in front of the bathroom mirror to perfect. So unlike the casual, wavy locks she was sporting now. Also, she wore a considerable amount of makeup and it was always flawlessly applied. She looked very well put together.

Just the thought of the time it must have taken to get ready each morning left her feeling exhausted. Maybe, when she was up and around again, she would feel differently. Although she couldn’t help thinking she looked a bit … vain. But she was sure these photos represented only a small segment of her life. Who didn’t like to look good for pictures? And she couldn’t deny that she and Ash made one heck of a good-looking couple.

How would he feel if she didn’t go back to being that perfectly put together woman? Would he be disappointed? Or did he love her for the woman inside?

The latter, she hoped. If not, would he be here by her side while she healed?

“Still at it?” the man in question said, and she looked up to find him standing at the foot of the bed. Ash was holding a newspaper in one hand and a brown paper sack in the other.

“You’re back already?” she asked.

“Already? I’ve been gone almost two hours.”

“Has it really been that long?” She would have guessed twenty-five or thirty minutes.

“I had to make a few calls to work, and I figured you wouldn’t mind the time alone. Which apparently you didn’t.” He nodded to her computer. “Any luck?”

She closed the computer and shook her head, trying not to let it discourage her, or to dwell on it. “I’ve looked at pretty much all of it and I don’t recognize a thing.” She gestured to the bag he was holding. “What’s that?”

“I stopped at the nurses’ station on my way out this morning, and they called the doctor, who said there’s no reason to have you on a restricted diet, so.” He pulled a white foam restaurant container from the bag. “Your burger and fries, madam.”

The scent of the food wafted her way and her mouth instantly started to water. Now she knew why she was marrying Ash. He was clearly the sweetest man in the world.

“You’re wonderful!” she said as he set it on her tray. “I can see why I fell in love with you.”

He gave her another one of those funny looks, as though the sentiment was totally unexpected or out of character.

“What? Don’t tell me I’ve never said I love you.”

“It’s not that. I just.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t expect to hear anything like that so soon. I guess I figured you would have to take the time to get to know me again.”

“Well, I sure like what I’ve seen so far.” She opened the container top, her taste buds going berserk in anticipation. Her stomach growled and, up until that instant, she didn’t even realize she was hungry. She automatically grabbed a packet of ketchup, tore it open with her teeth, and drizzled it over her fries. Ash pulled out a similar container for himself and set it beside hers on the tray, but his was a BLT with coleslaw. He sat on the edge of the mattress near her to eat.

The fries were greasy and salty, and by far the best thing Melody had eaten in days. Or maybe ever. And when she took a bite of her burger it was pure nirvana.

“How did your calls to work go?” she asked. “Are they upset that you’ll be gone for a while?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter how they feel. They don’t have a say in the matter.”

She frowned. “I would feel awful if I got you in trouble, or even worse, if you got fired because of me.”

“Don’t worry. They aren’t going to fire me. I’m the best damned CFO they’ve ever had. Besides, they know that if they did let me go, their competitor, Golden Gate Promotions, would probably snap me up. The owner, Athos Koteas, would do just about anything for an edge. And that would be very bad for Maddox.”

“Not if your contract has a noncompete clause,” she said, stuffing a fry in her mouth. “Working for a competitor would be a direct breach. They could sue the pants off you. And I’m sure they would.”

When she glanced up, Ash had gone still with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, and he was giving her that “look” again. Why did he keep doing that? “What? Do I have ketchup on my face or something?”

“Mel, do you realize what you just said?”

She hit rewind and ran it through her head again, stunned when the meaning of her words sank in. “I was talking like a lawyer.”

Ash nodded.

“Oh, my gosh! I didn’t even think about it. It just. popped out.” A huge smile crept across her face. “I remembered something!”

Granted it was nothing important, or personal, but it was something. She tried to dredge up some other legal jargon, but her mind went blank. Maybe that was just the way it was going to be. Maybe it would come back in little bits and pieces. At that rate she would have her full memory back by the time she and Ash retired, she thought wryly.

“For the record,” he said, “I did have a noncompete clause and they removed it when I refused to sign.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but she had the feeling Ash didn’t share in her happiness. It was as if he thought her remembering something was a bad thing.

It was just one more little thing that seemed … off.

She shook the thought away. She was being ridiculous. Of course he wanted her to remember things. Didn’t he? What reason would he have not to?

That, she realized, was what she needed to find out.

That had been a close call, Ash thought as he and Mel ate lunch. In hindsight, bringing her computer might not have been the brightest idea he’d ever had, but doing it today, instead of waiting until they got back to San Francisco, had sort of been an accident. He’d grabbed it on his way out the door when he left for the hospital. He didn’t like the idea of leaving it in the room, for fear that it might be stolen. But as he climbed into his rental, the interior, at nine in the morning, was already about a million degrees. Assuming he would be in the hospital most of the day, it didn’t seem wise to leave the laptop in the car, in the blistering heat.

What choice did he have but to bring it into the hospital with him, and as a result, give it to Melody? What if it did spark a memory? Was he willing to jeopardize his plans? He’d been up half the night removing personal information, so it seemed unlikely anything would shake loose a memory.

To confuse her, and hopefully buy himself a little more time, he not only removed things from the computer, but added a few things, as well.

To give her the impression they attended social functions together—when in reality they rarely went out socially—he added a few entries for fictional theater dates and parties. He also included a meeting with a wedding planner, which he thought was a nice touch. One they had regretfully missed because Mel had been missing.

The most brilliant switch, in his opinion, was her music. He knew from experience that some songs evoked specific memories or feelings. Like the knot he got in his stomach whenever he heard “Hey Jude” by the Beatles, the song that was playing the day he drove home to break the good news about his promotion and found his ex in bed with her personal trainer.

So, he deleted Mel’s entire music catalog and replaced it with his own music library. Mel had always preferred current pop music, while he listened to classic rock and jazz. There wasn’t much chance that would be jogging any memories.

Now he was wondering if that hadn’t been enough. Or maybe the memories were going to come back regardless. Either way, he didn’t want to panic prematurely. Remembering something about the law was still a far cry from regaining her personal memories.

He looked over at Melody and realized she’d stopped eating with nearly half her burger and fries still left.

“Full already?” he asked.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” she asked. “Something you don’t want me to know?”

The question came so far out of left field he was struck dumb for several seconds, and when his brain finally kicked back in he figured it would be in his best interest to play dumb. “What do you mean?”

She pushed her tray aside. “I just get this nagging feeling that you’re hiding something from me.”

He could play this one of two ways. He could act angry and indignant, but in his experience that just screamed guilty. So instead he went for the wounded angle.

He pasted on a baffled expression and said, “God, Mel, why would you think that? If I did or said something to hurt your feelings.” He shrugged helplessly.

The arrow hit its mark. Melody looked crushed.

“Of course you haven’t. You’ve been wonderful.” She reached out and put her hand on his forearm. “You’ve done so much for me and I’m acting completely ungrateful. Just forget I said anything.”

He laid his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “You suffered a severe head injury. You were in a coma for two weeks.” He flashed her a sympathetic smile. “I promise I won’t hold it against you.”

Her smile was a grateful one. And of course, he felt like slime for playing on her emotions. For using it to his advantage.

Remember what she did to you, he told himself. Although, one thing he couldn’t deny was that Melody was not the woman she’d been before the accident. In the past, she never would have confronted him this way with her suspicions. Yet, at the same time, she was much softer and compassionate than she used to be. Not to mention uncharacteristically open with her emotions.

When she told him she loved him he’d felt … well, he honestly wasn’t sure what he’d felt. It was just … unusual. No one had said that to him in a long time. He and his wife had stopped expressing sentiments of love long before the final meltdown. The pain of their breakup had been less about lost love than the humiliation of her deceit, and his own stupidity for not seeing her for what she really was.

In the long run he honestly believed she had done him a favor, although he could have done without seeing the proof with his own eyes.

Even if Melody thought she loved Ash, she obviously didn’t mean it or she wouldn’t have cheated on him in the first place. Besides, their relationship wasn’t about love. It was more about mutual respect and convenience. She was only saying what she thought she was supposed to say. She probably just assumed that she would never be engaged to a man she didn’t love. But that was all part of the plan, wasn’t it? To make her believe that they were in love. And apparently it was working.

He couldn’t deny that in her current condition, he was having a tough time keeping a grip on the anger he’d felt when he learned about her pregnancy. He was sure that once he got her back home and she started acting like her old self, the wounds would feel fresh again. He would approach the situation with a renewed sense of vengeance.

He was counting on it.

Six days after Ash arrived in Abilene, after showing what Dr. Nelson said was remarkable progress, Melody was finally released from the hospital. An orderly wheeled her down to the front entrance, her heart pounding in anticipation of finally being free, and as they exited the building, a wall of hot, dry air washed over her.

She hoped their place in San Francisco had a courtyard or a balcony, because after being cooped up in the hospital for so long, she wanted to spend lots of time outside. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep, felt the sun beat down hot on her face as she was wheeled from under the awning to the curb where Ash waited with his rental car. It was barely 10:00 a.m. and it had to be pushing ninety degrees. The sun was so bright, she had to raise a hand to shade her eyes. She wasn’t sure of the make of the vehicle, but it looked expensive.

Ash had dressed casually for the trip, in jeans and a T-shirt, and Melody didn’t miss the group of nurses following him with their eyes, practically drooling on their scrubs.

Look all you like ladies, but he’s mine.

Not that Melody blamed them for gawking. He looked hot as hell dressed that way. The shirt accentuated the width of his shoulders and showed off the lean muscle in his arms, and the jeans hugged his behind in a way that gave her impure thoughts. She could hardly wait until she was feeling well enough to have sex again. Right now, if she did anything marginally taxing, her head began to pound.

As soon as they reached the car Ash opened the door. A rush of cool air cut through the heat as he helped her from the chair to the front seat. The interior was soft black leather, and it had what looked like a top-of-the-line sound and navigation system. Ash got her settled in and helped with her seat belt, and as he leaned over her to fasten it, he smelled so delicious she wanted to bury her face in the crook of his neck and take a nibble. When he seemed convinced she was securely fastened in, with her seat as far back as it would go—just in case the airbag deployed and bonked her head, rattling her already compromised brain—he walked around and got in the driver’s side. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“I am so ready.”

He turned the key and the engine hummed to life, and as he pulled from the curb and down the driveway toward the road, she had this odd feeling of urgency. She felt that if he didn’t hurry, the staff members were going to change their minds and chase her down like a fugitive, or an escaped mental patient, and make her go back to that awful room.

It wasn’t until he pulled out onto the main road and hit the gas, and the hospital finally disappeared out of sight, that she could breathe easy again. She was finally free. As long as she lived, she hoped she never had to stay in a hospital room again.

He glanced over at her. “You all right?”

“I am now.”

“You’re comfortable?” he asked.

“Very.” He’d brought her suitcase to the hospital and she’d chosen a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt to start the trip. She’d tried to find a bra she liked, but either they were push-up and squeezed her breasts to within an inch of her life or they were made of itchy lace, so she’d opted not to wear one at all. As long as she didn’t get cold, or pull her shirt taut, it was kind of hard to tell. Besides, it was just her and Ash and he’d seen her breasts plenty of times before.

The jeans were comfortable, and although at one point she was guessing they were pretty tight, now they hung off her. Despite her constant cravings for food, her eyes were bigger than her stomach, but Dr. Nelson assured her that her appetite would return.

She’d opted to wear flip-flops on her feet and toed them off the instant she was in the car, keeping them within reach should she happen to need them.

Other than the dull ache in her temples, she couldn’t be more comfortable.

“If you need to stop for any reason just let me know,” Ash told her. “And if the driving gets to be too much we’ll stop and get a hotel room.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” If it were at all possible, she wished they could drive straight through until they got to San Francisco, but it was a twenty-four-hour trip and she knew Ash would have to sleep at some point. Still, she wanted to stay on the road as long as possible. The sooner they got home, the better. She was convinced that once she was there, surrounded by her own possessions, her memories would begin to return.

Ash turned onto the I-20 on-ramp, hit the gas and zoomed onto the freeway, shooting like a rocket into traffic.

“This is pretty nice for a rental,” she told him.

“It’s not a rental,” he said as he maneuvered left into the fast lane. “This is my car.”

His car? “I thought you flew here.”

“I did, but I wanted you to be comfortable on the way home so I arranged to have my car brought to Texas. It arrived yesterday morning.”

That couldn’t have been cheap. She’d never asked Ash about their financial situation, but apparently CFOs at San Francisco ad agencies made decent money.

“It looks expensive,” she said. “The car, I mean.”

He shrugged. “I like nice cars.”

“So I guess you do okay? Financially.”

He flashed her a side glance, one of those funny looks that had become so familiar this past week. “Are you asking how much I make?”

“No! Of course not. It’s just, well … you wear expensive clothes and drive an expensive car. So I’m assuming you make a decent living, that’s all.”

“I do okay,” he said, a grin kicking up one corner of his mouth, as though the idea of her even asking amused him. And she knew that if she asked exactly how much he made, he would probably tell her. It just wasn’t that important.

All that mattered to her was how wonderful he’d been this week. Other than running an occasional errand, or stepping out to pick up food, Ash hadn’t left her side. He got there every morning after visiting hours started and didn’t leave until they ended at ten. She had been off her feet for so long and her muscles had deteriorated so much that at first walking had been a challenge. Because she was determined to get out of there as soon as humanly possible, Melody had paced, back and forth, up and down the corridors for hours to build her strength. And Ash had been right there by her side.

At first, she’d literally needed him there to hang on to, or to lean on when her balance got hinky. It was frustrating, not being able to do something as simple as taking a few steps unassisted, but Ash kept pumping her full of encouragement and, after the second day, she could manage with only her IV pole to steady her. When they finally removed her IV, she’d been a little wary at first, but realized she was steady enough walking without it. Yesterday she had been chugging along at a pretty good pace when Dr. Nelson came by to let her know she would be released in the morning. He had already discussed her case with a neurologist in San Francisco—one of the best, he said—and Melody would go in to see him as soon as they were home.

Melody’s lids started to feel droopy and she realized the pain pills the nurse had given her right before she was discharged were starting to kick in.

Ash must have noticed because he said, “Why don’t you put your seat back? It’s the lever on the right. And there’s a pillow and blanket in the backseat if you need them.”

The man thought of everything.

It was plenty warm in the car, even with the air on, but the pillow sounded good. She reclined her seat then grabbed the pillow from the back and tucked it under her head. She sighed and snuggled into the buttery-soft leather, sure that her hospital bed hadn’t been half as comfortable. She wanted to stay awake, to keep Ash company, but her lids just didn’t want to cooperate, so finally she stopped fighting it and let them close. It couldn’t have been ten seconds before she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Six

Melody woke, disoriented and confused, expecting to be in her hospital bed. The she remembered she’d been set free and smiled, even though her head ached so hard she was sure that her eyeballs were going to pop from their sockets.

“Have a good nap?”

She looked over and saw Ash gazing down at her, a bottle of soda in his hand. Only then did she realize they were no longer moving. She rubbed her eyes, giving them a gentle push inward, just in case, and asked, “Why are we stopped?”

“Lunch break.”

She looked up and saw that they were parked in a fast-food restaurant lot.

“I was just going in to grab a burger. Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m good. But my head is pounding. What time is it?”

“After three.”

She’d been asleep for five hours?

“It’s probably the elevation. Do you need a pain pill?”

She nodded, so he opened the glove box and pulled out the prescription they had filled at the hospital pharmacy. “One or two?”

One pill wouldn’t put her to sleep, and she would be able to keep Ash company, but gauging the pain in her head, she needed two. “Two, I think.”

He tapped them out of the bottle and offered his soda to wash them down. “I’m going in. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m sure.”

While he was gone she lay back and closed her eyes. She must have drifted off again because when the car door opened, it startled her awake.

Ash was back with a bag of food. He unwrapped his burger in his lap and set his fries in the console cup holder. It wasn’t until they were back on the highway, and the aroma permeated the interior, when her stomach started to rumble in protest.

Maybe she was hungry after all. Every time he took a bite her jaw tightened and her mouth watered.

After a while Ash asked, “Is there a reason you’re watching me eat?”

She didn’t realize how intently she’d been staring. “Um, no?”

“You wouldn’t be hungry, would you?” he asked.

She was starving, but she couldn’t very well ask him to turn around and go back. “I can wait until the next stop.”

“Look in the bag,” he told her.

She did, and found another burger and fries inside.

“I kind of figured once you saw me eating you would be hungry, too.”

“Just one more reason why I love you,” she said, diving into her food with gusto.

She was only able to eat about half, so Ash polished off the rest. When she was finished eating the painkillers had kicked in and she dozed off with her stomach pleasantly full. A few hours later she roused for a trip to the rest stop, and as soon as the car was moving again, promptly fell back to sleep. The next time she opened her eyes it was dark and they were parked in front of an economy hotel. She realized that Ash was standing outside the open passenger door, his hand was on her shoulder, and he was nudging her awake.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily.

“After eleven. We’re stopping for the night,” he said. “I got us a room.”

Thirteen hours down, eleven to go, she thought. Maybe this time tomorrow they would be home.

He helped her out and across the parking lot. All the sleep should have energized her, but she was still exhausted, and her head hurt worse than it had before. Maybe this trip was harder on her system than she realized.

Their bags were already inside and sitting on the bed.

“They didn’t have any doubles left and there isn’t another hotel for miles,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t want to share, I can sack out on the floor.”

They had shared a bed for three years. Of course, she had no memory of that. Maybe he was worried that she would feel strange sleeping with him until they got to know one another better. Which she had to admit was pretty sweet. It was a little unusual being with him this late at night, since he always left the hospital by ten. But actually, it was kind of nice.

“I don’t mind sharing,” she assured him.

“How’s your head feel?”

She rubbed her left temple. “Like it’s going to implode. Or explode. I’m not sure which.”

He tapped two painkillers out and got her a glass of water. “Maybe a hot shower would help.”

She swallowed them and said, “It probably would.”

“You can use the bathroom first.”

She stepped in the bathroom and closed the door, smiling when she saw that he’d set her toiletry bag on the edge of the sink. He seriously could not take better care of her.

She dropped her clothes on the mat and blasted the water as hot as she could stand then stepped under the spray. She soaped up, then washed and conditioned her hair, then she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the water beat down on her. When she felt herself listing to one side her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, realizing that she had actually drifted off to sleep.

She shut the water off and climbed out, wrapping herself in a towel that reeked of bleach. She combed her hair and brushed her teeth, grabbed her dirty clothes, and when she stepped out of the bathroom Ash was lying in bed with the television controller in one hand, watching a news program.

“Your turn,” she said.

He glanced over at her, did a quick double take, then turned back to the TV screen. “I thought I was going to have to call in the national guard,” he said. “You were in there a while.”

“Sorry. I fell asleep in the shower.”

“On or off?” he said, gesturing to the TV.

“Off. The second my head hits the pillow I’ll be out cold.”

He switched it off and rolled out of bed, grabbing the pajama bottoms he’d set out. “Out in a minute,” he said as he stepped in the bathroom and shut the door. Less than ten seconds later she heard the shower turn on.

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Melody walked on wobbly legs to the bed. She’d forgotten to grab something to sleep in from her suitcase, and with her case on the floor across the room, it hardly seemed worth the effort. It wasn’t as if he had never seen her naked before, and if she was okay with it, she was sure he would be, too.

She dropped her towel on the floor and climbed under the covers, her mind going soft and fuzzy as the painkillers started to do their job.

At some point she heard the bathroom door open and heard Ash moving around in the room, then she felt the covers shift, and she could swear she heard Ash curse under his breath. It seemed as though it was a long time before she felt the bed sink under his weight, or maybe it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But finally she felt him settle into bed, his arm not much more than an inch from her own, its heat radiating out to touch her.

She drifted back to sleep and woke in the darkness with something warm and smooth under her cheek. It took a second to realize that it was Ash’s chest. He was flat on his back and she was lying draped across him. At some point she must have cuddled up to him. She wondered if they slept like this all the time. She hoped so, because she liked it. It felt nice to be so close to him.

The next time she woke up, she could see the hint of sunlight through a break in the curtains. She was still lying on Ash, her leg thrown over one of his, and his arm was looped around her, his hand resting on her bare hip. The covers had slipped down just low enough for her to see the tent in his pajama bottoms. It looked … well … big, and for the first time since the accident she felt the honest-to-goodness tug of sexual arousal. She suddenly became ultra-aware of her body pressed against his. Her nipples pulled into two hard points and started to tingle, until it felt as though the only relief would come from rubbing them against his warm skin. In fact, she had the urge to rub her entire body all over his. She arched her back, drawing his leg deeper between her thighs, and as she did, her thigh brushed against his erection. He groaned in his sleep and sank his fingers into the flesh of her hip. Tingles of desire shivered straight through to her core.

It felt so good to be touched, and she wanted more; unfortunately, the more turned on she became, and the faster her blood raced through her veins, the more her head began to throb. She took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart. It was clear that it would be a while before she was ready to put her body through the stress of making love.

That didn’t make her want Ash any less, and it didn’t seem fair to make him keep waiting, after having already gone through months of abstinence, when there was no reason why she couldn’t make him feel good.

Didn’t she owe him for being so good to her? For sticking by her side?

Melody looked at the tent in his pajamas, imagined putting her hand inside, and was hit with a sudden and overwhelming urge to touch him, a need to please him that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside, almost like a shadowy memory, hazy and distant and just out of reach. It had never occurred to her before, but maybe being intimate with him would jog her memory.

She slid her hand down his taut and warm stomach, under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She felt the muscle just below the skin contract and harden under her touch. She moved lower still, tunneling her fingers through the wiry hair at the base. He was so warm there, as if all the heat in his body had trickled down to pool in that one spot.

She played there for just a few seconds, drawing her fingers back and forth through his hair, wondering what was going on in his head. Other than the tensing of his abdomen and the slight wrinkle between his brows, he appeared to be sleeping soundly.

When the anticipation became too much, she slid her hand up and wrapped it around his erection. The months without sex must have taken their toll because he was rock hard, and as she stroked her way upward, running her thumb along the tip, it was already wet and slippery.

She couldn’t recall ever having done this before—though she was sure she had, probably more times than she could count—but she inherently seemed to know what to do, knew what he liked. She kept her grip firm and her pace slow and even, and Ash seemed to like it. She could see the blood pulsing at the base of his throat and his hips started to move in time with her strokes. She looked up, watching his face. She could tell he was beginning to wake up, and she wanted to see his expression when he did.

His breath was coming faster now and his head thrashed from one side to the other, then back again. She was sure that all he needed was one little push.

She turned her face toward his chest, took his nipple in her mouth, then bit down. Not hard enough to leave a mark, only to arouse, and it worked like a charm. A groan ripped from Ash’s chest and his hips bucked upward, locking as his body let go. His fingers dug into her flesh, then he relaxed and went slack beneath her.

Mel looked up at him and found that he was looking back at her, drowsy and a little disoriented, as if he were still caught somewhere between asleep and awake. He looked down at her hand still gripping him inside his pajamas. She waited for the smile to curl his mouth, for him to tell her how good she made him feel, but instead he frowned and snapped, “Mel, what are you doing?”

Mel snatched her hand from inside Ash’s pajamas, grabbed the sheet and yanked it up to cover herself. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or hurt, or a little of both. But Melody didn’t do angry. Not with him anyway. At least, she never used to.

“I think the appropriate thing to say at a time like this is thanks, that felt great,” she snapped.

Yep, that was definitely anger.

“That did feel great. The part I was awake for.” Which wasn’t much.

He knew last night, when he’d pulled back the covers and discovered she was naked, that sleeping next to her would be a bad idea. When he woke in the middle of the night with her draped over him like a wet noodle, limp and soft and sleeping soundly, he knew that he should have rolled her over onto her own side of the bed, but he was too tired, and too comfortable to work up the will. And yeah, maybe it felt good, too. But he sure as hell hadn’t expected to wake up this morning with her hand in his pants.

Before the accident it would have been par for the course. If he had a nickel for every time he’d roused in the morning in the middle of a hot dream to find Melody straddling him, or giving him head.

But now he almost felt … violated.

Looked as if he should have listened to his instincts and slept on the damned floor.

The worst thing about this was seeing her there barely covered with the sheet, one long, lithe leg peeking out from underneath, the luscious curve of her left breast exposed, her hair adorably mussed, and all he could think about was tossing her down on the mattress and having his way with her.

Sex with Melody had always been off-the-charts fantastic. Always. She had been willing to try anything at least once, and would go to practically any lengths to please him. In fact, there were times when she could be a little too adventurous and enthusiastic. Three years into their relationship they made love as often and as enthusiastically as their first time when it was all exciting and new—right up until the day she walked out on him.

But when it came to staying angry with her, seeing her in such a compromised condition and knowing that she had no recollection of cheating on him took some of the wind out of his sails. For now. When she got her memory back, that would be a whole other story.

But that did not mean he was ready to immediately hop back into bed with her. When, and if, he was ready to have sex with her, he would let her know. He was calling the shots this time.

“I don’t get why you’re so upset about this,” she said, sounding indignant, and a little dejected.

“You could have woken me up and asked if it was okay.”

“Well, seeing as how we’re engaged, I really didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“You’re not ready for sex.”

“Which is why I don’t expect anything from you. I was perfectly content just making you feel good. Most guys—”

“Most guys would not expect their fiancée, who just suffered a serious head injury, to get them off. Especially one who’s still too fragile to have him return the favor. Did you ever stop to think that I might feel guilty?”

Some of her anger fizzled away. “But it’s been months for you, and I just thought … it just didn’t seem fair.”

Fair? “Okay, so it’s been months. So what? I’m not a sex fiend. You may have noticed that my puny reptile brain functions just fine without it.”

That made her crack a smile. “It didn’t seem right that you had to suffer because of me. I just wanted to make you happy.”

Is that what she had been doing the past three years? Making him happy? Had she believed that she needed to constantly please him sexually to keep him interested? Did she think that because he paid for her school, her room and board, kept her living a lifestyle many women would envy, that she was his … sex slave? And had he ever given her a reason to believe otherwise?

For him, their relationship was as much about companionship as sex. Although, in three years, of all the times she had offered herself so freely, not to mention enthusiastically, had he ever once stopped her and said, “Let’s just talk instead?”

Was that why she cheated on him? Did she need someone who treated her like an equal and not a sex object?

If she felt that way, she should have said so. But since they were stuck together for a while, he should at least set the record straight.

“The thing is, Mel, I’m not suffering. And even if I was, you don’t owe me anything.”

“You sure looked like you were this morning when I woke up,” she said.

“Mel, I’m a guy. I could be getting laid ten times a day and I would still wake up with a hard-on. It’s part of the outdoor plumbing package.”

She smiled and he offered his hand for her to take. She had to let go of the sheet on one side and it dropped down, completely baring her left breast. It was firm and plump, her nipples small and rosy, and it took all the restraint he could muster not to lean forward and take her into his mouth. He realized he was staring and tore his gaze away to look in her eyes, but she’d seen, and he had the feeling she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.

“Not suffering, huh?” she said with a wry smile.

Well, not anymore. Not much anyway.

“I honestly believe that we need to take this slow,” he said. “If you’re not physically ready, we wait. Both of us.”

“Okay,” she agreed solemnly, giving his hand a squeeze. “You mind if I use the bathroom first, or do you want it?”

“Go ahead.”

She rolled out of bed and he assumed she intended to take the sheet along to cover herself. Instead she let it fall and stood there in all her naked glory, thinner than she’d been, almost to point of looking a little bony, but still sexy and desirable as hell.

Instead of walking straight into the bathroom, she went the opposite way to her suitcase, her hair falling in mussed waves over her shoulders, the sway of her hips mesmerizing him. He expected her to lift her case and set it on the bed, but instead she bent at the waist to unzip her case right there. She stood not five feet away, her back to him, legs spread just far enough to give him a perfect view of her goods, and he damn near swallowed his own tongue. He saw two perfect globes of soft flesh that he was desperate to get his hands on, her thighs long and milky white, and what lay between them … damn. Doing him must have turned her on, too, because he could see traces of moisture glistening along her folds.

He had to fist the blankets to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. To stop himself from dropping to his knees and taking her into his mouth. He even caught himself licking his lips in anticipation.

She seemed to take an unnecessarily long time rifling through her clothes, choosing what to wear, then she straightened. He pulled the covers across his lap, so she wouldn’t notice that conspicuous rise in his pajamas, but she didn’t even look his way; then, as she stepped into the bathroom she tossed him a quick, wicked smile over her shoulder.

If that little display had been some sort of revenge for snapping at her earlier, she sure as hell knew how to hit where it stung.

Seven

They got back on the road late that morning—although it was Melody’s own fault.

She’d already had a mild headache when she woke up, compounded by the sexual arousal, but bending over like that to open her case, and the pressure it had put on her head, had been a really bad move. The pain went from marginally cumbersome to oh-my-God-kill-me-now excruciating. But it had almost been worth it to see the look on Ash’s face.

She popped two painkillers then got dressed, thinking she would lie down while Ash got ready then she would be fine. Unfortunately it was the kind of sick, throbbing pain that was nearly unbearable, and exacerbated by the tiniest movement.

Ash’s first reaction was to drive her to the nearest hospital, but she convinced him that all she needed was a little quiet, and another hour or so of sleep. She urged him to go and get himself a nice breakfast, and wake her when he got back.

Instead, he let her sleep until almost eleven-thirty! It was nearly noon by the time they got on the road, and she realized, with a sinking heart, that they would never make it back to San Francisco that evening. On the bright side she managed to stay awake for most of the drive, and was able to enjoy the scenery as it passed. Ash played the radio and occasionally she would find herself singing along to songs she hadn’t even realized she knew. But if she made a conscious effort to remember them, her stubborn brain refused to cooperate.

When they stopped for the night, this time it was in a much more populated area and he managed to find a higher-class hotel with two double beds. However, that didn’t stop her from walking around naked and sleeping in the buff. The truth was, when it came to sleeping naked she wasn’t really doing it to annoy Ash. She actually liked the feel of the sheets against her bare skin. The walking-around-naked part? That was just for fun.

Not that she didn’t think Ash was right about waiting. When she’d invaded his pj’s yesterday morning she really hadn’t stopped to think that maybe he didn’t want to, that he might feel guilty that it was one-sided. If she wanted to get technical, what she had done was tantamount to rape or molestation. Although, honestly, he hadn’t seemed quite that scandalized.

Really, she should be thrilled that she was engaged to such a caring and sensitive man. And she supposed that if the burden of pent-up sexual energy became too much, he could just take care of matters himself. Although deep down she really hoped he would wait for her.

Despite wishing she was in Ash’s bed, curled up against him, she got a decent night’s sleep and woke feeling the best she had since this whole mess began. Her head hardly hurt and when they went to breakfast she ate every bite of her waffles and sausage. Maybe just knowing that in a few hours she would be home was all the medicine she needed for a full recovery.

Ash spent a lot of the drive on the phone with work, and though she wasn’t sure exactly what was being discussed, the tone of the conversation suggested that they were relieved he was coming back. And he seemed happy to be going back.

They crossed the Bay Bridge shortly after one, and they were finally in San Francisco. Though the views were gorgeous, she couldn’t say with any certainty that it looked the least bit familiar. They drove along the water, and after only a few minutes Ash pulled into the underground parking of a huge renovated warehouse that sat directly across the street from a busy pier.

He never said anything about them living on the water.

“Home sweet home,” he said, zooming past a couple dozen cars that looked just as classy as his, then he whipped into a spot right next to the elevator.

She peered out the window. “So this is it?”

“This is the place.” He opened his door and stuck one foot out.

“What floor do we live on?”

“The top.”

“What floor is that?”

“Six.” He paused a second and asked, “Would you like to go up?”

She did and she didn’t. She had been anticipating this day for what felt like ages, but now that she was here, back to her old life, she was terrified. What if she didn’t remember? What if the memories never resurfaced? Who would she be?

Stop being such a baby, she chastised herself. Like Dr. Nelson had reminded her the day she was discharged, it was just going to take time and she would have to be patient. No matter what happened up there, whether she remembered or not, it was going to be okay. She was a fighter.

She turned to Ash and flashed him a shaky smile. “I’m ready.”

She got out and waited by the elevator while Ash collected their bags from the trunk. He pushed the button for the elevator and it immediately opened. They stepped inside and he slipped a key in a lock on the panel, then hit the button for the top floor.

“Does everyone need a key?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Only our floor.”

She wondered why, and how many other condos were on the top floor. She was going to ask, but the movement of the elevator made her so dizzy it was all she could do to stay upright. Besides, as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, she got her answer.

They stepped off the elevator not into a hallway, but in a small vestibule in front of a set of double doors. Doors that led directly into their condo! They weren’t a condo on the sixth floor. They were the sixth floor, and what she saw inside when he unlocked the door literally took her breath away. The entire living area—kitchen, dining room and family room—was one huge open space with a ceiling two stories high, bordered by a wall of windows that overlooked the ocean.

The floors were mahogany, with a shine so deep she could see herself in it. The kitchen looked ultramodern and she was guessing it had every device and gadget on the market. The furniture looked trendy but comfortable, and everything, from the oriental rugs to light fixtures, screamed top-of-the-line.

For a second she just stood there frozen, wondering if, as some sick joke, he’d taken her to someone else’s condo. If they really lived here, how could she not remember it?

Ash set the bags on the floor and dropped his keys on a trendy little drop-leaf table beside the door. He started to walk toward the kitchen, but when he realized she wasn’t moving, he stopped and turned to her. “Are you coming in?”

“You told me you do okay,” she said, and at his confused look she added, “financially. But you do way better than okay, don’t you?”

He grinned and said, “A little bit better than okay.”

Her fiancé was loaded. She lived in a loft condo overlooking the ocean. It was almost too much to take in all at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “It just didn’t seem that important. And I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Oh, awesome idea, because I’m not the least bit overwhelmed now!” She was so freaked out she was practically hyperventilating.

“I take it nothing looks familiar.”

“Curiously, no. And you’d think I would have remembered this.”

“Why don’t I show you around?”

She nodded and followed him to the kitchen, looking out the bank of windows as they passed, and the view was so breathtaking she had to stop. She could see sailboats and ships on the water and they had a phenomenal view of the Bay Bridge.

Ash stepped up behind her. “Nice view, huh?”

“It’s. amazing.”

“That’s why I bought this place. I always wanted a place by the water.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“I bought it after the divorce was final. Right before we met. You’ve lived here almost as long as I have. You’ve always said that your favorite room is the kitchen.”

She could see why. The cabinets had a mahogany base with frosted glass doors; the countertops were black granite. All the appliances, even the coffeemaker, were stainless steel and it looked as functional as it was aesthetically pleasing. “Do I cook?”

“You’re an excellent cook.”

She hoped that was one of those things that just came naturally.

There was a laundry room and half bath behind the kitchen, then they moved on to the bedrooms, which were sectioned off on the right side of the loft. Three huge rooms, each with its own full bath and an enormous walk-in closet. He used one as a home office, one was the master, and the third he told her was hers.

“We don’t share?” she asked, trying hard to disguise her disappointment.

“Well, you’ve always used this as an office and kept your clothes and things in here. I just figured that until things settle down, maybe you should sleep here, too.”

But what if she wanted to sleep with him?

He’s only thinking of your health, she assured herself. She knew that if they slept in the same bed they would be tempted to do things that she just was not ready for. Look what had happened in the hotel. And last night she had wanted so badly to climb out of her own bed and slip into his.

She walked over to the closet and stepped inside, looking at all of her belongings. She ran her hands over the shirts and slacks and dresses, feeling the soft, expensive fabrics, disheartened by how unfamiliar it all was.

“Well?” Ash asked, leaning in the closet doorway, looking so casually sexy in faded jeans and an untucked, slightly rumpled polo shirt, his hair stilled mussed from driving with the windows down, that she had the bone-deep feeling that as long as they had each other, everything would be okay.

“They’re nice clothes, but I don’t recognize them.”

“It’ll come to you, just—”

“Be patient, I know. I’m trying.”

“What are you planning to do now?”

“Look through my things, I guess. It’s weird, but it feels almost like I’ll be snooping.”

“If it’s okay with you,” he said, “I’m going to go to the office for a while.”

They’d barely been back ten minutes and already he was going to leave her alone? “But we just got here.”

“I know, but I’ll only be a couple of hours,” he assured her. “You’ll be fine. Why don’t you relax and take some time familiarizing yourself with the condo. And you look like you could use a nap.”

She didn’t want him to go, but he had sacrificed so much already for her. It was selfish to think that he didn’t deserve to get back to his life. And hadn’t the doctor suggested she try to get back into her regular routine as soon as possible?

“You’re right,” she told Ash. “I’ll be fine.”

“Get some rest. Oh, and don’t forget that you’re supposed to make an appointment with that new doctor. The card is in your purse.”

“I’ll do it right away.”

He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, a soft and lingering brush of his lips, then he turned to leave.

“Ash?”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything. I probably haven’t said that enough. I know it’s been a rough week, and you’ve been wonderful.”

“I’m just glad to have you home,” he said. He flashed her one last sweet smile, then disappeared from sight. Not a minute later she heard the jingle of his car keys, then the sound of the door opening and closing, then silence.

As promised, the first thing she did was fish the doctor’s card from her purse and called to make the appointment. It was scheduled for Friday of that week, three days away at nine in the morning. Ash would have to drive her of course, which would mean him taking even more time off work. Maybe he could just drop her off and pick her up. She wondered if it was close to his work. The receptionist spouted off cross streets and directions, none of which Melody recognized, but she dutifully jotted them down for Ash.

With that finished, she stepped back into her bedroom, wondering what she should investigate first. There was a desk and file cabinet on one side of the room, and a chest of drawers on the other. But as her eyes swept over the bed, she was overcome by a yawn so deep that tears welled in her eyes.

Maybe she should rest first, then investigate, she thought, already walking to the bed. She pulled down the covers and slipped between sheets so silky soft she longed to shed all of her clothes, but this was going to be a short rest, not a full-blown nap.

But the second her head hit the pillow she was sound asleep.

Despite how many times Ash reminded himself what Melody had done to him, she was starting to get under his skin. He was sure that going to work, getting back to his old routine, would put things in perspective. Instead, as he rode the elevator up to the sixth floor, his shoulders sagged with the weight of his guilt.

Maybe it was wrong to leave Melody alone so soon. Would it have really been so terrible waiting until tomorrow to return to work? But he’d felt as though he desperately needed time away, if only a few hours, to get her off his mind. Only now that he was gone, he felt so bad for leaving, she was all he could think about.

Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

The halls were deserted as he stepped off the elevator, but when he entered his outer office his secretary, Rachel, who’d single-handedly held his professional life together this week, jumped from her chair to greet him.

“Mr. Williams! You’re back! I thought we wouldn’t see you until tomorrow.” She walked around her desk to give him a warm hug. He wouldn’t ordinarily get physically affectionate with his subordinates, especially a woman. But considering she was pushing sixty and happily married with three kids and half a dozen grandchildren, he wasn’t worried. Besides, she was sometimes more of a mother figure than a secretary. She reminded him of his own mother in many ways, of what she might have been like if she’d lived. However, no matter how many times he’d asked, she refused to address him by his first name. She was very old-fashioned that way. She had been with Maddox long before he came along, and probably knew more about the business than most of the hotshots working there.

“I decided to come in for a few hours, to catch up on things,” he told her.

Rachel backed away, holding him at arm’s length. “You look tired.”

“And you look gorgeous. Is that a new hairstyle?”

She rolled her eyes at his less-than-subtle dodge. He knew as well as she did that her hair hadn’t changed in twenty years. “How is Melody?”

“On the mend. She should be back to her old self in no time.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. Send her my best.”

“I will.” Rachel knew Melody had been in an accident, but not the severity of it, or that she had amnesia. There would be too many questions that Ash just didn’t have the answers to.

It was best he kept Melody as far removed from his life as he could, so the inevitable breakup wouldn’t cause more than a minor ripple.

When rumors of her leaving the first time had circulated, the compassionate smiles and looks of pity were excruciating. He didn’t appreciate everyone sticking their noses in his personal life, when it was no one else’s business.

Rachel looked him up and down, one brow raised. “Did someone make it casual day and forget to tell me?”

He chuckled. “Since I’m not officially here, I thought I could get away with it.”

“I’ll let it slide this one time.” She patted his shoulder. “Now, you go sit down. Coffee?”

“That would be fantastic. Thanks.” He was so zonked that if he were to put his head down on his desk he would go out like a light. He’d slept terrible last night, knowing that Mel was just a few feet away in the next bed, naked. It only made matters worse that she insisted on walking around the room naked beforehand.

While Rachel fetched his coffee, Ash walked into his office. It was pretty much the way he’d left it, except his inbox had multiplied exponentially in size. He was going to have to stay all weekend playing catch-up. Just as he settled into his chair Rachel returned with his coffee and a pastry.

“I know you prefer to avoid sweets, but you looked as if you could use the sugar.”

“Thanks, Rachel.” He’d been eating so terribly the past week that one little Danish wasn’t going to make much difference. Kind of like throwing a deck chair off the Titanic. Thankfully the hotel in Abilene had had a fitness room, and he’d used it faithfully each morning before he left for the hospital.

“I there anything else?” she asked.

He sipped his coffee and shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Buzz if you need me,” she said, then left his office, shutting the door behind her.

Ash sighed, gazing around the room, feeling conflicted. He loved his job, and being here usually brought him solace, yet now he felt as if there were somewhere else he should be instead.

With Melody, of course. All the more reason not to go home.

Ash picked up the pastry and took a bite. Someone knocked on his door, then it opened and Flynn stuck his head in.

“I see our wandering CFO had finally returned to the flock. You got a minute?”

Ash’s mouth was full so he gestured Flynn in. He swallowed and said, “I’m not officially back until tomorrow, so I’m not really here.”

“Gotcha.” He made himself comfortable in the chair opposite his desk. “So, after you left so abruptly last week I tried to pump Rachel for information but she clammed up on me. I even threatened to fire her if she didn’t talk and she said this place would tank without her.”

“It probably would,” Ash agreed.

“Which is why she’s still sitting out there and I’m in here asking you why you disappeared. I know your parents are dead, and you never mentioned any relatives, so it can’t be that. I’m guessing it had something to do with Melody.” He paused then said, “Of course you can tell me to go to hell and mind my own business.”

He could, and it was tempting, but Ash figured he owed Flynn an explanation. Not only was Flynn his boss, he was a friend. However, he had to be careful to edit the content. Maddox had some very conservative clients. Conservative, multimillion-dollar clients. If rumors began to circulate that his mistress of three years left him because she was carrying another man’s love-child, it would only be a matter of time before word made it to someone at Golden Gate Promotions, who wouldn’t hesitate to use it against Maddox.

Not that he believed Flynn would deliberately do anything to jeopardize the success of the company his own father built from the ground up, but despite the best of intentions, things had a way of slipping out. Like the affair that Brock, Flynn’s brother, was rumored to be having with his assistant. Brock and Elle probably never intended that to get out either.

It just wasn’t worth the risk.

“I found her,” Ash told Flynn.

“You told me you weren’t even going to look.”

“Yeah, well, after a few weeks, when she didn’t come crawling back to me begging forgiveness, I got … concerned. So I hired a P.I.”

“So where was she?”

“In a hospital in Abilene, Texas.”

His brow dipped low over his eyes. “A hospital? Is she okay?”

Ash told him the whole story. The accident, the drug-induced coma, all the time he spent by her bedside, then having to drive home because she couldn’t fly.

Flynn shook his head in disbelief. “I wish you would have said something. Maybe there was a way we could have helped.”

“I appreciate it, but really, there was nothing you could have done. She just needs time to heal.”

“Is she back home with you now?”

“Yeah, we got back today.”

“So, does this mean you guys are … back together?”

“She’s staying with me while she recovers. After that.” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“This is probably none of my business, but did she tell you why she left?”

“It’s … complicated.”

Flynn held up a hand. “I get it, back off. Just know that I’m here if you need to talk. And if you need anything, Ash, anything at all, just say the word. Extra vacation days, a leave of absence, you name it and it’s yours. I want to do anything I can to help.”

He wouldn’t be taking Flynn up on that. The idea of spending another extended amount of time away from work, stuck in his condo, just him and Melody, made his chest feel tight. “Thanks, Flynn, I appreciate it. We both do.”

After he was gone Ash sat at his desk replaying the conversation in his head. He hadn’t lied to Flynn; he’d just left out a few facts. For Flynn’s own good, and the good of the company.

His mom used to tell him that good intentions paved the way to hell, and Ash couldn’t escape the feeling sometimes that maybe he was already there.

Eight

Melody ’s quick rest turned into an all-day affair. She roused at seven-thirty when Ash got back feeling more tired than before, with a blazing headache to boot. After feeling so good the day before, the backslide was discouraging. Ash assured her that it was probably just the lingering aftereffects of the barometer and temperature change going from Texas to California, and she hoped he was right.

She popped two painkillers then joined him at the dining-room table in her sleep-rumpled clothes and nibbled on a slice of the pizza he’d brought home with him. She had hoped they could spend a few hours together, but the pills seemed to hit her especially hard. Despite sleeping most of the day, she could barely hold her head up. At one point she closed her eyes, for what she thought was just a second, but the next thing she knew Ash was nudging her awake.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he said, and she realized that he had already cleared the table and put the pizza away.

Melody stood with his help and let him lead her to the bedroom. She crawled in bed, clothes and all, and only vaguely recalled feeling him pull the covers up over her and kiss her forehead.

When she woke the next morning she felt a million times better. Her head still hurt, but the pain was mild, and her stomach howled to be fed. Wearing the same clothes as yesterday, her hair a frightening mop that she twisted and fastened in place with a clip she found under the bathroom sink, she wandered out of her bedroom in search of Ash, but he had already left for work.

The coffee in the pot was still warm so she poured herself a cup and put it in the microwave to heat, finding that her fingers seemed to know exactly what buttons to push, even though she had no memory of doing it before. While she waited she fixed herself something to eat. She spent a good forty minutes on the couch, devouring cold pizza, sipping lukewarm coffee and watching an infomercial advertising some murderously uncomfortable looking contraption of spandex and wire that when worn over the bra was designed to enhance the breasts and improve posture. She couldn’t imagine ever being so concerned about the perkiness of her boobs that she would subject herself to that kind of torture.

She also wondered, if she’d never gone to Texas, and the accident hadn’t happened, what she would be doing right now? Would she be sprawled on the couch eating leftovers or out doing something glamorous like meeting with her personal trainer or getting her legs waxed?

Or would she be in class? It was only mid-April so the semester wouldn’t be over yet. She wondered, when and if she got her memory back, if they would let her make up the time and work she’d missed or if she would have to go back and take the classes over again. If she even wanted to go back, that was. The law still held little interest, but that could change. And what if it didn’t? What then?

Worrying about it was making her head hurt, so she pushed it out of her mind. She got up, put her dirty dishes in the dishwasher alongside Ash’s coffee cup and cereal bowl, then went to take a long, hot shower. She dried off with a soft, oversize, fluffy blue towel, then stood naked in her closet trying to decide what to wear. Much like the bras she had packed for her trip, everything she owned seemed to be a push-up or made of itchy lace—or both. Didn’t she own any no-nonsense, comfortable bras?

It gave her the inexplicable feeling that she was rummaging through someone else’s wardrobe.

She found a drawer full of sport bras that would do until she could get to the store and put one on. Maybe she’d liked those other bras before, and maybe she would again someday, but for now they just seemed uncomfortable and impractical. The same went for all the thong, lace underwear. Thank goodness she had a few silk and spandex panties, too.

She was so used to lying around in a hospital gown that the designer-label clothes lining her closet seemed excessive when all she planned to do was hang out at home, but after some searching she found a pair of black cotton yoga pants and a Stanford University sweatshirt that had been washed and worn to within an inch of its life.

Since she was already in the closet, she decided that would be the place to start her search for memory-jogging paraphernalia. But around ten, when Ash called to check on her, nothing she’d found held any significance. Just the typical stuff you would find in any woman’s closet. She wondered if she was trying too hard. If she stopped thinking about it, maybe it would just come to her. But the thought of sitting around doing nothing seemed totally counterproductive.

Refusing to let herself get frustrated, she searched her desk next. She found papers in her hand that she had no recollection of writing, and an envelope of photos of herself and Ash, most in social settings. She’d hoped maybe there would be letters or a diary but there were none.

In the file cabinet she found pages and pages of schoolwork and other school-related papers, but nothing having to do with any specific research she’d been working on. In the very back of the drawer she found an unmarked file with several DVDs inside. Most were unmarked, but one had a handwritten label marked Ash’s Birthday. Video of a birthday party maybe? Home videos could jog a memory, right?

Full of excitement and hope, she grabbed the file and dashed out to the family room to the enormous flat-screen television. It took her a few minutes just to figure out how to turn everything on, and which remote went with which piece of equipment. When the disk was in and loaded she sat on the couch and hit Play … and discovered in the first two seconds that this was no ordinary birthday party. At least, not the kind they would invite other people to. For starters, they were in bed … and in their underwear. Those didn’t stay on for long though.

This was obviously one of those videos that Ash had mentioned. Although, at the time, she had half believed he was joking. She felt like a voyeur, peeking through a window at another woman’s private life. The things she was doing to him, the words coming out of her mouth, made her blush furiously, but she was too captivated to look away. Was this the kind of thing Ash was going to expect when they made love? Because she wasn’t sure if she even knew how to be that woman anymore. She was so blatantly sexy and confident.

Melody hated her for it, and desperately wanted to be her.

When the DVD ended she grabbed one of the unmarked DVDs and put it in the player. It was similar to the first one, starting out with the two of them in bed together. But this time after a bit of foreplay she reached over somewhere out of the camera’s view, and came back with four crimson silk scarves that she used to tie a very willing Ash to the head and footboard.

Watching this DVD she discovered just how flexible she actually was. Physically and sexually. It was sexy and adventurous, and in a lot of ways fun, but it occurred to her as it ended that she wasn’t particularly turned on. More curious than aroused. Not that she didn’t enjoy seeing Ash naked. His body was truly a work of art. Long and lean and perfect in every way. It was the sex itself that was, she hated to admit, a little … boring.

She grabbed a third disk and put it in, and as it began to play she could tell right away that it was different. This one was set in Ash’s bathroom, and he was filming her through the clear glass shower door. She was soaping herself up, seemingly lost in thought. He said her name, and when she turned she looked genuinely surprised to see him standing there holding the camera. After that he must have put the camera on a tripod because he came from behind it, already beautifully naked, and climbed in the stall with her, leaving the door open.

The tone of this video was completely different from the others. They soaped each other up, touching and stroking, as if they had all the time in the world. And unlike the others there was a lot of kissing in this one. Deep, slow, tender kisses that had Melody’s attention transfixed to screen, actually licking her lips, wishing she could taste Ash there.

Missing was the sense of urgency, as if it were a race to see who could get who off first. Instead they took their time exploring and caressing, their arousal gradually escalating, until they both seemed to lose themselves. It was like watching a totally different couple, and this was a woman she could definitely imagine being. A woman she wanted to be.

The first two DVDs had been sexy, but they were just sex. There didn’t seem to be much emotion involved. In this one it was clear, by the way they touched, the way they looked in each other’s eyes, that they had a deep emotional connection. She could see that they loved each other.

On the screen Ash lifted her off her feet and pressed her against the shower wall. Their eyes locked and held, and the ecstasy on their faces, the look of total rapture as he sank inside her made Melody shiver.

She wanted that. She wanted Ash to kiss her and touch her and make love to her. She was breathing heavily, feeling so warm and tingly between her thighs that she wished she could climb through the screen and take the other Melody’s place. They were making love in the purest sense, and she couldn’t help thinking that if he were here right now she would—

“This one is my favorite,” someone said from behind her.

Melody shrieked in surprise and flew off the couch so fast that the remote went flying and landed with a sharp crack on the hardwood floor several feet away. She spun around and found Ash standing behind the couch, a couple of plastic grocery bags hanging from his fingers and a wry grin on his face.

“You scared me half to death!” she admonished, her anger a flimsy veil to hide her embarrassment. But it was useless because her face was already turning twenty different shades of pink. He’d caught her watching porn. Porn that he was in. What could be more embarrassing? “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

“I wasn’t sneaking. In fact, I wasn’t being particularly quiet at all. You just didn’t hear me. I guess I see why.”

On the television her evil counterpart was moaning and panting as Ash rocked into her, water sluicing down their wet, soapy bodies. Melody scrambled for the remote, but it took her a few seconds of jabbing random buttons before the DVD stopped and the screen went black. When she looked back at Ash he was still wearing that wry smile.

“What are you doing home? It’s only—” she looked at the clock and could hardly believe it was after three “—three-fifteen.”

Had she really been watching sex videos for almost two hours?

He held up the bags. “There’s nothing here to eat but pizza so I stopped at the store after a lunch meeting. So you wouldn’t have to go out.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

She waited for a comment about her watching the video, waited for him to tease her, but instead he walked past her and carried the bags to the kitchen. It was the first time she had seen him in a suit since the day he showed up at the hospital to claim her, and, oh, man, did he look delicious. There was something undeniably sexy about an executive who shopped for groceries. Of course, as turned on as she was right now, he would look sexy in plaid polyester floods and a polka-dot argyle sweater.

“I found the DVDs in my file cabinet,” she said, following him, even though he hadn’t asked for an explanation, or even looked as though he expected or required one.

He set the bags on the island countertop and started unpacking them. It looked as though he had picked up the basics. Milk, eggs, bread, a gallon of orange juice, as well as two bags full of fresh fruits and vegetables.

“I didn’t know what they were when I found them,” she said, stepping around to put the perishables in the fridge. “I was pretty surprised when I put the first one in.”

One brow rose. “The first one?”

God, she made it sound as if she had been sitting there watching them all day.

“The only one,” she lied, but it was obvious he wasn’t buying it. Probably because he’d seen the DVDs strewn out on the coffee table.

“Okay, maybe I watched two …”

Up the brow went again.

“… and a half. It would have been three if I’d finished the one I was watching when you walked in.”

He seemed to find her discomfort amusing. “Mel, watch as many as you like.”

She wondered if he really meant that. “It doesn’t. bother you?”

“Why would it?” he asked, looking very unbothered.

“Because you’re in them, and they’re very. personal.”

He gave her a weird look. “You’re in them, too.”

“Yeah, but … it doesn’t seem like me. It’s like I’m watching someone else do all those things.”

“Take my word for it, it was definitely you.” He emptied the last of the bags so she balled them up, shoving one inside the other, and tossed them in the recycling bin under the sink.

“So,” she said, turning to him. “The shower one is your favorite?”

He grinned and nodded, and she wondered if she could talk him into re-creating it someday soon. It only seemed fair, seeing as how she could no longer remember doing it.

“It was mine, too,” she said.

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“I guess because it seemed more … real.”

That brow rose again. “Are you suggesting that in the others you were faking it?”

“No! Of course not,” she said, but realized, maybe she had been. The first two had been lacking something. They seemed almost … staged. As if she had been putting on a show for the camera. And there was no denying that, now at least, the hot sex and dirty talk didn’t do half as much for her as watching them make love.

Had she been faking it in those first two?

“You look as though you’re working something through,” Ash said. He was standing with his arms folded, hip wedged against the counter. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Were you faking it?”

She hoped not. What was the point of even having sex if she wasn’t going to enjoy it? “Even if I was, I wouldn’t remember. Would I?”

“That’s awfully convenient.”

She frowned. “No. It isn’t. Not for me.”

“Sorry.” He reached out and touched her arm. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She knew that. He was only teasing and she was being too touchy. She forced a smile. “I know you didn’t. Don’t worry about it.” She grabbed the last of the items on the counter, opened the pantry and put them away.

Ask looked at his watch. “Damn, it’s getting late, I have to get back. Thanks for helping put away—” He frowned and said, “Wait a minute.”

He walked to the fridge and opened it, scanning the inside, all the drawers and compartments, as if he’d forgotten something, then he closed the refrigerator door and looked in the cabinet under the kitchen sink. He did the same thing to the pantry, then he turned to her and asked, “Do you realize what you just did?”

Considering the look on his face, it couldn’t have been good. “No. Did I put everything in the wrong place or something?”

“No. Mel, you put everything in the right place.”

“I did?” She wanted to believe it was significant, but at the same time she didn’t want to get her hopes up. “Maybe it was a coincidence?”

“I don’t think so. When it comes to your kitchen you’re almost fanatical about keeping things tidy and organized. Everything in there is on the correct shelf, or in the right drawer. You even put the bags in the recycling bin when we were done and I don’t recall telling you it was even there.”

He was right. She hadn’t even thought about putting them there, she just did it. Just like the law stuff. It just came to her naturally, by doing and not thinking.

Her heart started to beat faster and happiness welled up, putting a huge lump in her throat. “You think I’m remembering?”

“I think you are.”

She squealed and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tight, feeling so happy she could burst. She realized, especially after watching those DVDs, just how many things she wanted to remember.

She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. It felt so good to be close to him. Even if he wasn’t hugging her back as hard as she was hugging him. “Do you think it was the DVDs? Maybe watching them made me remember the other things?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled up at him. “Well, then, maybe the real thing would work even better.”

He got that stern look and she quickly backpedaled. “I know, I know. I’m not ready. Yet. It was just … an observation. For when I am ready.” Which she was thinking might be sooner than they both expected.

He smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I think, when your brain is ready to remember things, it will. I don’t think you can rush it. Every time you’ve remembered something it’s been when you weren’t thinking about it. Right?”

She nodded.

“So just relax and let it happen naturally.” He looked at his watch, gave her one last kiss on the forehead, and said, “Now I really have to go.”

She was disappointed, but didn’t let it show. “Thanks for bringing the groceries. I suppose I should think about making something for dinner.”

“Don’t worry about feeding me. I’ll probably be home late. I have a lot of work to catch up on.”

Which was her fault, so she couldn’t exactly complain. She walked him to the elevator instead, watching until he stepped inside and the doors closed.

This time it was definitely not her imagination. Knowing that she was remembering things troubled him for some reason, and the only reason she could come up with was that there was something that he didn’t want her to remember. But she had no clue why, or what it could be. She thought about the money that she’d stashed in the pocket of one of the jackets in her closet. Was that the key to all of this?

She decided that if she had any more epiphanies or memory breakthroughs it would be best, for the time being anyway, to keep them to herself.

Nine

Ash took Friday morning off so he could take Mel to her appointment with her new neurologist. She had offered to have Ash drop her off and pick her up when she was finished, so he wouldn’t miss more work, but the truth was he wanted to be there to hear what the doctor had to say.

It had been eerie the other day, watching her put the groceries away, only to realize that, right before his eyes, she was becoming herself again. She was remembering, no matter how small and insignificant a memory it had been. The point was, it was happening, and he wasn’t sure he was ready.

Although since then, she hadn’t mentioned remembering anything new. Not that he’d been around to witness it himself. Work had kept him at the office until almost midnight the past three days so he and Mel had barely seen each other.

The doctor gave her a thorough neurological exam asked a couple dozen questions, and seemed impressed by her progress. He suggested that she slowly begin adding more physical activities back to her daily regimen. Mel glanced over at Ash, and he knew exactly the sort of physical activities she was thinking of. And he knew, the second she opened her mouth, what she was going to say.

“What about sex?” she asked.

The doctor looked down at the chart, a slight frown crinkling his brow, and for one terrifying instant Ash thought he was going to mention the miscarriage. Had Dr. Nelson warned him not to say anything? Finding out about the baby now would ruin everything.

“I see no reason why you shouldn’t engage in sexual activity,” he said, then added with a smile. “I would caution against anything too vigorous at first. Just take it slow and do what you’re comfortable with. I also suggest walking.”

“I’ve been doing that. We live right by the water so I’ve been taking walks on the shore.”

“That’s good. Just don’t overdo it. Start at ten or fifteen minutes a day and gradually work your way up.” He closed her file. “Well, everything looks good. If you have any problems, call me. Otherwise, I won’t need to see you back for three months.”

“That’s it?” Mel asked. “We’re really done?”

The doctor smiled. “At this point there isn’t much I can do. But only because Dr. Nelson took very good care of you.”

He shook hers and then Ash’s hand, and then he left. From the time they stepped into the waiting room, the entire appointment hadn’t taken more than twenty minutes.

“That sure was quick,” Mel said as they walked to the reception desk to make her next appointment. “I was expecting CAT scans and EEGs and all sorts of tests. I’d thought I’d be trapped here all day.”

So had he. Now that it was out of the way he was anxious to get back to work.

He drove her home and went up with her to grab his briefcase. He planned to say a quick goodbye and head out, but he could see by her expression that she wanted to “talk” and he knew exactly what about. Honestly, he was surprised she hadn’t brought it up the second they got out of the doctor’s office.

“Okay, let’s have it,” he said, dropping his briefcase beside the couch and perching on the arm.

She smiled shyly, which was weird because Mel didn’t have a shy bone in her body. Or didn’t used to. He couldn’t deny that he liked it a little. “So, you heard what the doctor said, about it being okay to make love.”

“When you’re ready,” he added, hoping she didn’t think they were going to throw down right here on the living-room rug. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about it either, after walking in to find her watching their home movies.

She had been so transfixed by the image of the two of them in the shower that she hadn’t heard him come in. He’d taken his keys from the lock and gave them an extra jingle to alert her to his presence. When that didn’t work he’d shut the door with more force than necessary, but she hadn’t even flinched. He’d tried rustling the plastic bags he was holding, and determined at that point that it was a lost cause. She had been so captivated, it was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. Then he’d stepped closer to the couch, seen the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the blush of arousal in her cheeks. She’d clenched the edge of the couch, looking as though she were about to climb out of her own skin.

The last time he’d seen her that turned on was when they had made that DVD.

In that instant he knew he wanted her, and it was just a matter of time before he gave in and let her have her way with him. But he’d wanted to wait and make sure everything went all right with her doctor appointment. And now he’d been given a green light.

When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “Do you feel like you’re ready?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I won’t be sure until I try.”

He waited for her to suggest that they try right now, but she didn’t. Instead she asked, “Are you working late again?”

“Until at least nine,” he said. “Probably later.”

She sighed. “I’ll be really happy when you’re caught up and we can actually see each other for more than ten minutes in the morning before you walk out the door. And maybe one of these days I’ll actually get to make dinner for you.”

“Soon,” he said, not sure if that was a promise he could, or wanted, to keep. He needed to keep some distance between them.

He waited for her to bring up the subject of sex again, but surprisingly, she didn’t. “Anything else before I go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Oookay. With affirmation from the doctor, he expected her to all but throw herself at him. Why was she acting so … timid?

He walked to the door and she followed him. “Call me later and I’ll try to wait up for you,” she said.

“I will.” He leaned down to brush a kiss to her cheek, but this time she turned her head and it was her lips he touched instead. He had kissed Mel at least a million times before, but this time when their lips met he felt it like an electric charge. Her sudden sharp intake of breath told him that she’d felt it, too. They stood that way for several seconds, frozen, their lips barely touching. He waited for her to make her move, but after several seconds passed and she didn’t move, didn’t even breathe as far as he could tell, he took matters into his own hands. He leaned in first, pressing his lips to hers.

Her lips were warm and soft and familiar and she still tasted like toothpaste. He waited for her to launch herself at him, to dive in with her usual enthusiasm, to ravage him with the deep, searching, desperate kisses that sometimes made him feel as though she wanted to swallow him whole.

But she didn’t. In fact it took several seconds before he felt her lips part, and she did it hesitantly, as if she was afraid to push too far too fast. Even when their tongues touched it wasn’t more than a tentative taste.

He’d never kissed her this way before, so tender and sweet. She didn’t dive in with gusto, in what he had to admit sometimes felt more like an oral assault than a kiss. Not that it wasn’t hot as hell, but this was nice, too. In fact, he liked this a lot.

It was so different, so not Melody. Even though he’d sworn to himself that he’d take this slow, he let himself be drawn in. Let her drag him down into something warm and sexy and satisfying.

He realized something else was different, too. Melody always wore perfume or body spray. The same musky, sensual fragrance that at times could be a touch cloying. Now the only detectable scent was a hint of soap and shampoo intermingled with the natural essence of her skin and her hair. Honestly, it was sexier and more arousing than anything she could find in a bottle.

And he was aroused, he realized. He was erect to the point of discomfort and aching for release. If her labored breathing and soft whimpers were any indication, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

He deepened the kiss and her tongue tangled with his, and she tasted so delicious, felt so good melting against him, he was the one who wanted to ravish her. He had promised himself that he would make her wait a little longer, draw out the anticipation for another day or two, until he really had her crawling out of her skin, but at that precise moment, he didn’t give a damn what he’d promised himself. He wanted her now.

Just as he was ready to make the next move, take it to the next level, he felt Mel’s hands on his chest applying gentle but steady pressure, and he realized that she was pushing him away.

He broke the kiss and reluctantly backed off. “What’s wrong?”

Melody’s cheeks were deep red and he could see her pulse fluttering wildly at the base of her neck. She smiled up at him and said, a little breathlessly, “That was amazing. But I think it’s all I can handle right now.”

All she could handle? Was she kidding? Once Mel got started she was unstoppable. Now she was actually stopping him?

Ash was so stunned by her sudden change of heart that he wasn’t sure how to act or what to say to her. She had never told him no. In fact, since he met her, he couldn’t recall a time when he’d even had to ask for sex. She was usually the aggressor, and she had an insatiable appetite. There were even times when he wished they could take a day or two off.

Now, for the first time in three years, he wanted something that he couldn’t have.

It was a sobering realization.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and he realized she was gazing up at him, looking apologetic. “I just don’t want to rush things. I want to take it slow, just like you said.”

For a second he had to wonder if this was some sort of twisted game. Get him all hot and bothered then say no. But the thought was fleeting because the Melody gazing up at him wasn’t capable of that kind of behavior. He was the one who had all but scolded her for touching him in the hotel room, the one who kept saying that they should take it slowly.

If anyone was playing games, he was, and he was getting exactly what he deserved.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her mouth pulled into a frown. “Are you upset with me?”

He desperately wished she was the old Melody again, so he could use this opportunity to hurt her. But in his mind they had inexplicably split into two separate and distinct people. The good Mel, and the evil Mel. And he knew that he couldn’t hurt this Melody.

Jesus, he was whipped. He’d gone and let her get under his skin. The one thing he swore he wouldn’t do.

“No,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her. “I’m not upset. Not at all.”

May as well enjoy it while it lasted, he thought, as she snuggled against him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. He knew, with her memory slowly returning, it was only a matter of time before the evil Mel was back and the good Mel was lost forever.

It was inevitable, but damn, was he going to miss her.

Leaving Mel and going in to work had been tough, but not as tough as it would have been staying with her. Sex had been the furthest thing from his mind the past couple weeks, but now, after one damned kiss, it seemed it was all he could think about. As a result, he was having one hell of a time concentrating on work.

He took an early lunch, early being noon instead of two or three, and though he didn’t normally drink during work hours, he made an exception and ordered a scotch on the rocks. It helped a little.

On his way back to his office he ran into Brock Maddox.

“I was just going to call you,” Brock said. “Can I have a quick word?”

“Of course.”

He gestured Ash to his office, and when they were inside he closed the door and said, “Flynn told me what happened with Melody. I wanted you to know how sorry I am.”

“Thanks. But she’s actually doing really well. She had an appointment with her neurologist today and everything looks good.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.”

“Was that all?” Ash asked, moving toward the door.

“There’s one more thing. As you’ve probably heard, we didn’t get the Brady account.”

“I heard.” Brady Enterprises was a fairly large account, and the fact that they didn’t get it was unfortunate, but Ash wasn’t sure if it warranted the grim look Brock was wearing. As CFO, Ash knew they were financially sound with or without Brady.

“They hired Golden Gate Promotions,” Brock told him.

“I heard that, too.” It was never fun to lose, especially to a direct competitor, especially one as cocky and arrogant as Athos Koteas, but obviously Golden Gate pitched them an idea, and a budget, they couldn’t refuse.

“Did you hear that they low-balled us out of the deal?” Brock asked, and when Ash opened his mouth to respond, he added, “Using a pitch that was almost identical to ours.”

“What?”

“That’s more the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Where did you hear this?”

“I have an acquaintance over at Brady and she clued me in. She said it was even suggested that Maddox was stealing pitch ideas.”

“Are we?”

The question seemed to surprise Brock. “Hell, no! That was our idea.”

“So, how did Golden Gate manage to pitch the same thing? Coincidence?”

“Highly unlikely. The only explanation is that someone here leaked it.”

If that was true, they had a serious problem. “What does Flynn think of this?”

“I didn’t tell him yet.”

As vice president, Flynn should have been told about this immediately. “You don’t think he needs to know?”

“I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Why? As CFO, this really isn’t my area of expertise.”

“Look, Ash, I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. You know that I’ve always liked Melody, but is it possible that she could have had anything to do with this?”

The question was so jarring, so out-of-the-blue unexpected, it actually knocked Ash back a step or two. “Melody? What would she have to do with this?”

“It just seems coincidental that right around the time we started laying out the framework for the pitch, meetings you were in on, she disappeared. I would understand completely if maybe you went home and mentioned things to her, never suspecting that she would leak it to our competitor. Maybe they made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

Ash’s hands curled into fists at his sides, and had he been standing within arm’s reach, he might have actually slugged Brock. “The idea that you would accuse Melody of all people of corporate espionage is the most ridiculous, not to mention insulting, thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Considering the way she took off, it just seemed a plausible scenario.”

“Yeah, well, you are way off base,” Ash said, taking a step toward him, all but daring him to disagree.

Brock put his hands up in a defensive posture and said, “Whoa, take it easy, Ash. I apologize for offending you, but put yourself in my position for a minute. Like I said, I had to ask. There’s a rumor that she didn’t leave on the best of terms, so I figured—”

“So we’re listening to rumors now? So should I assume that you’re screwing your assistant?”

Brock’s brow dipped in anger and Ash had the distinct feeling he’d taken this argument a step too far, then Brock’s attention shifted to the door.

“Mother, would it really be too much for you to knock before you enter a room?”

Ash turned to see Carol Maddox standing in the now-open doorway. Small and emaciated but a force to be reckoned with nonetheless. And oh, man, she didn’t look pleased. Of course, as long as Ash had known her, disappointment and contempt were the only two expressions that had ever made it through the Botox. In fact, he couldn’t recall a single incidence when he’d seen her smile. She was probably one of the unhappiest, nastiest people he’d ever met, and seemed hell-bent on taking everyone else down with her.

“I need to have a word with you, dear,” she said through gritted teeth, or maybe the Botox had frozen her jaw. Either way, she looked royally pissed off and Ash was in no mood to get caught in the crosshairs.

“I take it we’re finished here,” he said, and Brock nodded curtly.

As Ash sidestepped around Mrs. Maddox to get to the door, he almost felt guilty. The remark about Brock sleeping with Elle didn’t seem to go over well with good ol’ mom. But that was what he got for accusing Melody of all people of leaking company secrets.

Even if Ash had told her about the campaign—which he definitely hadn’t—she was not the type to go selling the information to Maddox’s rival. And somewhere deep down he would always resent Brock for even suggesting that she would.

Wait a minute …

He gave himself a mental shake. Wasn’t he being a touch hypocritical? Why was he so dead set on defending the honor of a woman he planned to use, then viciously dump? This was the evil Mel they were talking about, right?

Because, although she may have betrayed Ash’s trust, it would be against everything he believed to castigate someone for something they didn’t do. And for this, she was completely innocent.

When he reached his office Rachel greeted him anxiously. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been calling you. Miss Trent called.”

“Sorry, I forgot my cell in my desk. What did she want?”

“She said she needed to talk to you and she sounded frantic. Completely unlike herself. She asked to have you call her immediately on her cell phone.”

Melody wasn’t the frantic type, and that alone alarmed him. “Did she say why?”

“No. But I’m worried. She acted as if she’d never spoken to me before.”

That was because, as far as she knew, she never had. “I’ll call her right away.”

He stepped into his office, shut the door and dialed her cell. She answered before it even had time to ring on his end, and the stark fear in her voice made his heart drop.

“Ash?”

“It’s me. What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come get me,” she said, her voice quivering so hard he could barely understand her. His first thought was that maybe something had happened and she needed to be taken to the hospital.

“Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?”

“No, I just need a ride,” she said, then he heard the sound of traffic in the background and realized that she must not be at home. She’d said something about taking a walk when he left for work. Had she maybe walked too far and couldn’t make it back on her own?

“Mel, where are you?”

“The Hyde Street Pier.”

The Hyde Street Pier? That was way the hell across town from their condo. There was no way she could have walked that far. “How did you get over there?”

“Can you just come?” she asked, sounding desperate.

“Of course. I’m leaving right now. I’m ten minutes away.”

“I’ll be in front of the Maritime store right on the corner.”

Ash hung up the phone, grabbed his keys from his desk drawer, and as he passed Rachel’s desk he said, “I have to run out for a while. I’ll try to make it back this afternoon.”

“Is everything okay?” she asked, looking concerned.

“I’m not sure.” But he was about to find out.

Ten

Melody didn’t have to remember her past to know that she had never felt so stupid or humiliated in her entire life.

She sat in the passenger seat of Ash’s car, wringing her hands in her lap, wishing she could make herself invisible. At least she’d stopped trembling, and now that her heart rate had slowed her head had stopped hurting, and she wasn’t dizzy anymore either. That didn’t stop her from feeling like a total idiot.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” Ash asked gently, looking away from the road for a second to slide her a sideways glance.

“You’re going to think I’m stupid,” she said.

“I won’t think you’re stupid.” He reached over and pried one hand free and curled it under his. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You scared me.”

She bit her lip.

“Come on, Mel.”

“I got lost,” she said quickly, immediately wishing she could take it back. But he didn’t chastise or make fun of her, not that she thought he would. It didn’t make her feel any less like a dope though. And to his credit, he sat there silently waiting for her to elaborate, not pushing at all.

“Remember I said I was going to take a walk?”

He nodded.

“Well, I felt so good, so full of energy, I guess I overestimated my endurance a bit. I got about a mile and a half from home—”

“A mile and a half?” His eyes went wide. “Mel!”

“I know, but it felt so good to be in the fresh air, and it was mostly downhill. But then I started to get really tired, and the way back was all uphill. I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it back, so I got on a bus.”

“You knew which bus to take?”

“I thought I did. Unfortunately it was the wrong bus. It took me in the opposite direction of home, and by the time I figured it out I was really far. So I got off at the next stop and got on a different bus, but that one was going the wrong direction, too. It was such a strange sensation, like I knew deep down that I should know which bus to take, but I kept picking the wrong one.”

“Why didn’t you ask someone for help?”

“I was too embarrassed. Besides, I felt like I needed to do it on my own.”

“And they say men never ask for directions,” he said, rolling his eyes, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I rode around for a couple of hours,” she continued, “and finally got off at the pier. I had absolutely no idea where I was. I could have been in China for all I knew. Nothing looked familiar. And I guess … I guess I just freaked out. My heart was racing and I had this tightness in my chest, like I was having a heart attack. Then my hands started going numb and I felt like I was going to pass out and that really scared me. That’s when I called you.”

“It sounds like you had a panic attack. I used to get the same thing when I was a kid, when I went in for my treatments.”

“Treatments?” she asked.

He paused for a second, then said, “Radiation.”

She frowned. “Radiation? What for?”

“Osteosarcoma,” he said, then glanced over and added, “Bone cancer.”

He had cancer? She’d had no idea. Well, she probably did, she just didn’t remember. “I know I’ve probably asked you this before, but when?”

“I was twelve.”

“Where was it?”

“My femur.”

“How long were you—”

“Not long. Eight months, give or take. They caught it early at my annual physical. A round of radiation and chemo and I was fine.”

She was pretty sure it hadn’t been as simple as he made it sound. Especially if he had been having panic attacks. “Do you worry. I mean, could it … come back?”

“If it was going to come back it would have a long time ago.” He glanced over at her. “If you’re worried I’m going to get sick and die on you, I’m probably more likely to be hit by a bus.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just … I don’t know what I meant. The question just popped out. I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay.”

She could see that it was a touchy subject and she didn’t want to push it. She just hoped he didn’t think that it would ever stop her from marrying him. She was in this for the long haul, until death do them part and all that. And speaking of marriage.

“I was wondering,” she said. “Is there a reason you wouldn’t tell people at work that we’re engaged?”

His shot a glance her way. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, when I called your office, and your secretary asked who it was, I said Ash’s fiancée, and she sounded really confused.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, Ash’s what? and I said, Ash’s fiancée, Melody. I got the distinct impression that she had no idea we were engaged.”

“We just haven’t officially announced it,” he said. “I asked right before you left on your trip, then you didn’t come back….” He shrugged.

“So you didn’t say anything to anyone.”

“It was the last thing on my mind.”

“Well, I guess that explains the pictures and the videos.”

“What about them?”

“I noticed that I wasn’t wearing my engagement ring in a single one. So now I know why.”

Melody looked over at him and Ash had a strange look on his face, as if he felt sick to his stomach or something.

“Is it okay that I said something to her? I mean, we have no reason not to announce it now. Right?”

“I’ve just been so swamped since we’ve been back, with everything at work, and the doctor’s office. The truth is, it completely slipped my mind.”

“But it is okay.”

He smiled and squeezed her hand again. “Of course.”

“Oh, good,” she said, feeling relieved. “Since I kind of already did. To your secretary anyway. Do you think we should plan some sort of engagement party? Or at least call the wedding planner?”

“I think you shouldn’t worry about it until you’ve had more time to heal. There’s no rush. Look at what happened today when you got too stressed.”

He was right. She knew he was. It was just that she felt this need to get on with her life. This deep-seated urgency to move forward.

Give it time, she told herself. Eventually you’ll be yourself again.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.