A Hard Man to Forget (8 page)

“Your entire past? I thought that sort of repression only
applied to particular memories, not this all-compassing memory loss.”

She eyed him wryly. “I didn’t know you were so
knowledgeable in this area.”

His cool gaze didn’t falter. “I’ve been doing some
research.”

Checking up on her, waiting for her to say something that would prove
she was lying, no doubt. She sighed. “Well, that’s the
best explanation I’ve been able to find. It might be easier for
me to recover my memories now that I’ve got somewhere to
start.”

Laura thought of her therapist back in Harrisville. Though he’d
never said anything, she knew he’d also grown discouraged by
her lack of response to the hypnosis. He’d assured her it
wasn’t entirely uncommon. It hadn’t been much comfort.

She wondered what Dr. Walker would say if he knew where she was right
now. What she would give to be able to talk to him and have him help
her through the turmoil churning inside of her. So much had happened
in the last twenty-four hours. It seemed almost unreal. She wouldn’t
mind having someone to help her deal with all of this, someone who
didn’t watch every move she made and examine every word that
came out of her mouth, waiting for her to trip up.

“If we went to my therapist, he might be able to help me unlock
these memories now that I know something that might be my past.”

“’Might be?’” he challenged.

She said nothing, meeting his gaze with an unwavering stare of her
own.

“It’s an idea,” he conceded with a noticeable lack
of enthusiasm.

She immediately understood his hesitation. He still didn’t
trust her not to run.

“Or maybe I should try something else to help you remember.”

Laura frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that. “What
are you suggesting?”

She didn’t have time to react before he slid across the couch
to her side. He reached over and cupped the back of her head in his
hand. Instinct told her to pull away, but she didn’t. Instead,
she turned her face into his palm and closed her eyes. It was an
automatic response. She didn’t know where it came from. All she
knew was that it was the thing to do.

His fingers were hot against her skin and rougher than she would have
expected for a man who spent his days at a keyboard. He traced the
line of her jawbone with the pad of one thumb, buried his fingers in
her hair and gently massaged her scalp. He had big hands, but his
touch was gentle. Her skin tingled where he held her.

“Can you tell me you don’t remember that?” he
murmured. He’d leaned closer. She could feel his breath brush
against her cheek. The low rumble of his voice was so close.

She didn’t open her eyes, not wanting to break the spell. “I—I
don’t know.” And she didn’t. His touch was stirring
up so many emotions inside of her she couldn’t get a handle on
them all. But a memory? She couldn’t be sure. Everything she
was feeling was based firmly in the present.

He reached up to stroke her bottom lip. “But you feel it, don’t
you?”

“Yes...” How could she deny the tingling shooting along
her arms and legs, the sparks of awareness that were foreign and yet
so familiar? Was she feeling this, or was she remembering it? Or
both?

“And this?” he whispered low against her mouth just
before he kissed her.

His mouth was strong and supple. The kiss was deceptively gentle. He
tested her willingness with a soft nip, tugging at her bottom lip,
prodding her mouth to open for him. She conceded with a silent moan.
Abandoning any pretense at gentleness, he claimed her lips, his mouth
hard and probing. His tongue singed her own with a jolt of pleasure
that sent lightning streaking down her spine and had her shivering
beneath him.

He went rigid above her and started to pull away. She wouldn’t
let him. She was lost in a daze of sensation that she couldn’t
identify. She’d never felt this before, not that she could
remember. Certainly not in the two years since she’d woken in
that hospital bed. She knew on an instinctive level that this was
desire. She wanted him, a raw, overpowering need that defied all
reason. Was it supposed to be this strong, this heady? Was it natural
to want to kiss him this badly, to want to press her body to him and
feel every hard inch of his against her? Or was her reaction driven
by more than desire? Was it a remembered response, a sign that her
body knew something her mind didn’t, something that not even
her memory loss could prevent her flesh from knowing at a basic
level?

The questions whirled in her mind, pushed higher and higher by the
emotions churning inside her, until they were blown away by his
ministrations, leaving only these feelings that overwhelmed her.

She grasped his face in both hands and held him to her when he would
have withdrawn. Feeling a heady, reckless abandon, she pushed her
tongue past his lips. She explored the moist cavern of his mouth and
savored his taste. She felt his surprise, the brief hesitation. Then
he responded in kind, sucking her tongue deep into his mouth, nipping
at her bottom lip. His hands slid under her armpits and clutched her
shoulders. He pulled her hard against him, so hard her head whipped
back. They never broke the kiss. There was too much to taste, too
much to feel. There would never be enough time to take in all of it.

All the confusion of the last twenty-four hours, of the last three
years, disappeared. There was nothing but his arms around her, his
mouth against hers, his warmth enveloping her in a dizzying rush of
taste and sensation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, so faint it
almost wasn’t conscious, she knew she’d never felt
anything like this. There was no way. She couldn’t have
forgotten this for any reason.

“What the hell is going on here?”

The woman’s voice was like a clap of thunder in the quiet, a
verbal splash of cold water. Startled, they jerked apart.

Shaken, Laura sat there for a moment, her body trembling, unable to
see past the spots in her eyes.

Two people, a man and a woman, stood at the entrance to the room.
Both of them were staring directly at her.

The woman, about her age with dark hair and a beautiful face, stood
with her hands balled into fists. Fury twisted her features into a
mask of pure hatred. Laura almost recoiled under the force of her
glare.

The man, lean with thinning hair and wire-rimmed glasses, gaped at
her, horrified. He gasped a single word, which echoed endlessly in
the sudden stillness of the room.

“Meredith...”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman snarled. “Meredith
is dead.” She glared at Laura with open hostility, her stance
so combative Laura was almost surprised she hadn’t already
launched herself across the room. “Which begs the question, who
the hell are you?”

Simon and Laura both rose to their feet. Laura didn’t know how
her legs were able to hold her. They felt about as solid as jelly.

Simon stepped in front of her, protectively, she thought. “Aimee,
that’s enough. And thanks for knocking, both of you.”

“We did,” the man sputtered. “Didn’t you hear
us?”

“Of course they didn’t,” Aimee snapped. “Can’t
you see they were busy?”

“Why are you even here?” Simon demanded, ignoring her.

“I was worried,” the man said. Before her eyes, a cool
confidence she wouldn’t have expected based on his reaction to
her slid over him, transforming him. “I’ve been trying to
get in touch with you for days.”

“You’re not my babysitter, Will.”

“Well, maybe you need one,” Will said, giving Laura a
head-to-toe once-over. “When you didn’t respond to any of
my texts or e-mails, I was afraid something was wrong.” His
tone clearly added the unstated, “And I was right.” “So
I called Aimee, and she said she hadn’t seen you either.”

“We were so worried,” Aimee purred in a wheedling tone
that instantly set Laura’s teeth on edge. She stepped forward
and placed a hand on Simon’s arm. Laura didn’t miss the
way he tensed beneath her touch. “You weren’t answering
your phone. No one had any idea where you were. I stopped by a few
times and you weren’t here.”

Simon’s voice was stiff. “Your concern was unnecessary.”
And unwelcome, Laura understood. She wondered why the notion pleased
her so much.

Aimee’s eyes went wide, far too exaggerated to be genuine.
Laura finally recognized her. She was one of the people in the photo
albums, one of Meredith’s friends. That could explain her
hostility to Laura. If she thought Laura was an impostor trying to
usurp her friend’s place, she might naturally be upset. That
did not, however, explain Aimee’s proprietary attitude toward
Simon, the way she clearly acted as though he was hers.

“What are you talking about?” Aimee said. “You need
someone to take care of you, all by yourself out here.”

“I’m fine,” he said, brusquely. “Even if I
wasn’t, that person would not be you. Thank you for stopping
by. It’s been a pleasure as always. I’m sure you can show
yourself to the door.”

Aimee’s expression was thunderstruck. “B-but, Simon—"

“Go.”

The command could not have been clearer if he physically turned her
toward the door and shoved her through it. Aimee was furious. She
covered it well, but not so well that Laura missed it.

“All right. I’ll check on you later.”

“Don’t bother.” The answer was immediate,
devastating in its quickness.

Aimee didn’t react outwardly. She swayed toward the doorway and
disappeared in the hall.

It was only when she was gone that Laura realized the other
man—Will—was still staring at her. He looked like he was
about to be sick.

Simon began to turn toward her.

Laura was one step ahead of him. “I could use some air. If
you’ll excuse me...”

Simon sent her a look of warning. She glared back at him before
turning away. “Don’t worry. I won’t wander too
far.”

She didn’t even try to keep the bite out of her words. Who did
he think she was going to ask for a ride back to town? Aimee looked
like she’d just as soon claw her eyes out, and Will seemed
scared to death of her. If that was the reaction she could expect
from the people in town, staying away might not be such a bad idea.
Simon might be a mad kidnapper, but being trapped here with him as
looking better and better by the minute.

Of course, her decision had nothing to do with the way he kissed...

Suddenly trembling again, Laura bolted for the closest exit she could
find: the glass-paneled doors that led off the living room. Plunging
through them, she drew in a great gulp of oxygen from the breeze that
splashed her cheeks.

She hadn’t lied. She did need the air. The tension in the room,
the tautness coiled in her stomach, had begun long before Will and
Aimee had made their unexpected appearance.

With that kiss...

Preoccupied, Laura kept walking until the sound of water lapping
against sand reached her ears. It was only then that she realized
where she’d inadvertently led herself and what awaited her at
the end of the path.

The lake.

SIMON WATCHED AS LAURA went down the path and disappeared from view.
Part of him wanted to go after her, not to let her out of his sight.
He needed to know where she was. Deep down, he couldn’t fight
the fear that she’d disappear again, as though she’d
never been there at all.

The thought was disquieting, to say the least. He knew he’d
been acting pretty crazy the last few days, acting more out of
emotion than with his head. What if he was crazy? What if he was
imagining her return, a sure sign he’d gone off the deep end
once and for all?

One look at Will assured him he wasn’t. He’d seen her,
and Aimee too. At least there was some benefit to their sudden
appearance.

His partner was staring at him through narrowed eyes. The shock had
dissipated, leaving behind the calculating man Simon knew lay beneath
the polished exterior. It was what made him such a good businessman.
“What are you doing?” he said, his voice hard.

Simon dropped his gaze to the photo album on the table. He quickly
slammed it shut. “What do you mean?”

“That woman. Who is she?”

“She’s Meredith. You said it yourself.”

“I was in shock. I wasn’t thinking straight. Aimee’s
right. She can’t be Meredith. Meredith’s dead.”

“Then who’s that?” He jabbed a thumb toward the
sliding glass doors Laura had just disappeared through.

Will grimaced. “Cute, Simon.”

“To be honest, Will, it’s none of your business. As you
can see I’m fine. Your concern, though appreciated, was
unfounded.”

“I don’t see that at all.” Exhaling sharply, Will
ran a trembling hand through his hair. It was a nervous gesture Simon
recognized. He’d been the cause of it more times than he cared
to count. “Simon, I’m begging you. Don’t get
started on this Meredith business again.”

“Who said I ever stopped?”

Will sighed expansively. “That’s what I was afraid you’d
say.”

“Don’t worry, Will. I promise I won’t let her
presence interfere with my responsibilities to the company.”

“That’s not why I’m here and you know it,”
Will snapped.

Simon sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Will
was more than his business partner. He was the closest friend he’d
ever had. They’d been roommates at Stanford, two computer geeks
dreaming of creating their own games, talking endlessly about story
and ideas, hunched over their machines to all hours of the night and
more than a few days when they were supposed to have been in class,
pouring over code. More than a decade later, they’d made those
dreams come true more fully than they’d ever imagined. He knew
the man had his best interests at heart, personally and
professionally. “You have to admit coming all the way from the
city just because you couldn’t get a hold of me is a little
excessive.”