Billionaire's Contract Engagement(45)

"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.