Los Banos Ranch
Her hair smelled good. He buried his head in the softness and just inhaled. She was all woman. So soft. When his lips trailed down her cheek, he moaned at the thought of kissing her again. God, he’d missed her. She was so much a part of him. Loving her was the sweetest thing he’d ever known. His cock was pulsing. It had been so long. He needed her so…Lib…
“Austin, make love to me.” A voice in his ear jerked him from his slumber.
“What?” He opened his eyes, expecting to see—someone else. “Martina.” She was not who he’d been dreaming about. Desperately, he tried to hold on to the woman in his dreams—any image, a name, her touch. But the sensations were fleeting, drifting away like smoke in the evening breeze.
Austin pushed his head back firmly into the pillow, trying to escape the woman who was hovering over him. This stranger who said she was his fiancé ran her hand down his naked chest, lower...lower. Soon, she would encounter the evidence of his desire. But it wasn’t for her. He caught her wrist.
What was wrong with him? He was a red-blooded male. Apparently he needed sex. But something was holding him back… “I can’t.”
She drew back, her dark Latin eyes burning with flames of desire and impatience. “Why not?”
At last, a good thing was coming from his accident. “I’m still weak.” Weak, maybe. Horny and able to have sex, yes. But not with her.
“Would you at least touch me?” She grabbed his hand and tried to force it down between her legs. A tingle of interest sparked in his mind, but then he saw big blue eyes, heard a soft voice and he knew he couldn’t.
“Sorry, I’m feeling nauseated.” He got up and headed for the bathroom. “Maybe you’d better go back to your room.” With that, he shut the door. Damn, he needed to start wearing pajamas to bed. It was normal for two engaged people to sleep together, to have sex, but this didn’t feel right.
Austin stood in front of the mirror, waiting to hear her leave the room and shut the door. Here he was, gazing into this glass darkly again. A dull ache caused his head to pound. Headaches were common the first month or so after surgery, or so the doctor said. But Austin welcomed the discomfort. It reminded him he was alive. The memories he’d lost seemed to be closer at that time as well. He could almost remember. Detached, he gazed into the same stranger’s face—unfamiliar, yet at the same time, familiar.
Finally, he heard the door shut. Keeping her at arm’s length was becoming an uncomfortable struggle. He had no idea if he’d ever remember Martina and their life together or not. Could he accept that this was his world? Or would he hold out for the dream?
Pulling himself together, he decided to venture downstairs. Getting dressed, he opened the door and headed into the hall.
Austin was a bit shocked. He hadn’t known what to expect. Of course, the suite he’d been given was extremely comfortable. But the rest of the house was very impressive and familiar to a degree. Yes, he didn’t recall anything about the upstairs, but he seemed to recognize the lower floor. He definitely got the feeling he’d been here before.
Slowly, holding on to the bannister, Austin stood in the foyer. The whole place was framed by grand arches and the floors were of white marble. A fireplace big enough to roast a hog was off in the room to the right, and to the left was a dining table big enough to seat all of the Dallas Cowboys plus the cheerleading squad. “Hello? Is anyone home?” He’d stayed in that damn bedroom, till he couldn’t stomach it any longer. It was time he got up and took the lay of the land.
Hell, he didn’t even know where he was. For some reason, he hesitated to ask Martina a lot of questions. First off, because he dreaded what her answers might be and, secondly, she appeared reticent to talk. In fact, she was a bit evasive. The whole predicament was driving him
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