Читать книгу Mistress to the Magnate: Money Man's Fiancée Negotiation - Jennifer Lewis, Michelle Celmer - Страница 15

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.