memories bombarded him—crystal clear and perfect. Of making love to her, her mouth on him. Those lips of hers were something else. “You didn’t tell your friends either.”
“No.” Something dark swirled in her eyes for a second. Maybe regret?
“I don’t want a divorce, Julia. I want this marriage. I want you.”
She swallowed, focusing on the paper clutched in her hands. “I don’t think I can do a long-distance marriage. I thought it would be okay, but…” She trailed off, still not looking at him.
“We’re home for a few months,” he said. “Seymour wants us to write some new material and record another album. Couldn’t we start again? Face our problems together without secrets this time?”
“I can’t.” Pain carried in the hoarse whisper, and she seemed to zone out for an instant. Then she glanced at him, the sheen of emotion welling in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m good with relationships.”
He’d done this to her. The hurt radiating from her weakened his knees. Before he’d realized it, he had gathered her in his arms. When she tipped back her head, a tear escaped, and he brushed it away with his thumb. She surrendered, the paper and pen dropping to the floor. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her face to his shirt, a tremble rippling through her slender body.
Ryan dragged in a deep breath, his anxiety lessening now that he held her. This was home. Now all he had to do was convince her.
“Julia.” He breathed her in, the floral and herbal notes of her perfume, familiar and comforting even though he struggled to recall the name of the scent.
She lifted her head, and he was totally lost. He claimed her mouth softly, hesitating in case she rejected him. Relief struck him hard when her hands tightened on his shirt, but he kept the kiss casual, licking her lips and relearning her taste.
Sweet. Beautiful.
His.
He shivered at the surge of heat racing to his groin and desperately attempted to quell the blast of sexual need. Slow and easy . Gradually, he deepened the kiss, drinking in her sweetness, allowing his body to tell her everything—how much he’d missed her, hungered for her even when he hadn’t remembered her name.
He’d known his mystery woman was important, instinctively realized he had to keep the memory to himself until he’d worked everything through. If only he’d come home after the accident. But he’d had commitments and he’d honored them.
“Julia,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She thrust away from him without warning, leaving him bereft. “You forget. I saw the photos of you with other women.”
“Show them to me,” he said, not willing to back down or walk away from this important fight. “Are you sure they weren’t digitally altered? Neil and Caleb have both vouched for me. I truly haven’t slept with another woman since I left New Zealand.”
“That you recollect.” Her expression held skepticism.
“I remember cold showers. Many cold showers.” The memory went some way to cooling his ardor, for which he was thankful. The last thing he needed was for her to think he only wanted her for sex. “I spent a lot of my free time writing new songs,” he said. “I can show you the songs. Caleb and I have started to work on the arrangements. Please give me a chance. Let me prove myself.” Words almost tumbled over each other as he sought a way through her anger, her doubt. “Please.”
“I’m going to be busy with the club,” she said.
“Let me help. Caleb and I were talking earlier. The acoustics are excellent, and we thought it would make a great place for us to rehearse our new material. Somewhere off the radar. Of course, we’d pay you for use of the space.”
He didn’t know what he’d do if she refused. Nah, that was a lie. Even if he had to camp outside with a guitar and play songs on the street, he’d spend his hours with her, attempting to change her mind.
“All right,” she said after a long pause,
“No.” Something dark swirled in her eyes for a second. Maybe regret?
“I don’t want a divorce, Julia. I want this marriage. I want you.”
She swallowed, focusing on the paper clutched in her hands. “I don’t think I can do a long-distance marriage. I thought it would be okay, but…” She trailed off, still not looking at him.
“We’re home for a few months,” he said. “Seymour wants us to write some new material and record another album. Couldn’t we start again? Face our problems together without secrets this time?”
“I can’t.” Pain carried in the hoarse whisper, and she seemed to zone out for an instant. Then she glanced at him, the sheen of emotion welling in her eyes. “I don’t think I’m good with relationships.”
He’d done this to her. The hurt radiating from her weakened his knees. Before he’d realized it, he had gathered her in his arms. When she tipped back her head, a tear escaped, and he brushed it away with his thumb. She surrendered, the paper and pen dropping to the floor. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she pressed her face to his shirt, a tremble rippling through her slender body.
Ryan dragged in a deep breath, his anxiety lessening now that he held her. This was home. Now all he had to do was convince her.
“Julia.” He breathed her in, the floral and herbal notes of her perfume, familiar and comforting even though he struggled to recall the name of the scent.
She lifted her head, and he was totally lost. He claimed her mouth softly, hesitating in case she rejected him. Relief struck him hard when her hands tightened on his shirt, but he kept the kiss casual, licking her lips and relearning her taste.
Sweet. Beautiful.
His.
He shivered at the surge of heat racing to his groin and desperately attempted to quell the blast of sexual need. Slow and easy . Gradually, he deepened the kiss, drinking in her sweetness, allowing his body to tell her everything—how much he’d missed her, hungered for her even when he hadn’t remembered her name.
He’d known his mystery woman was important, instinctively realized he had to keep the memory to himself until he’d worked everything through. If only he’d come home after the accident. But he’d had commitments and he’d honored them.
“Julia,” he whispered. “I love you.”
She thrust away from him without warning, leaving him bereft. “You forget. I saw the photos of you with other women.”
“Show them to me,” he said, not willing to back down or walk away from this important fight. “Are you sure they weren’t digitally altered? Neil and Caleb have both vouched for me. I truly haven’t slept with another woman since I left New Zealand.”
“That you recollect.” Her expression held skepticism.
“I remember cold showers. Many cold showers.” The memory went some way to cooling his ardor, for which he was thankful. The last thing he needed was for her to think he only wanted her for sex. “I spent a lot of my free time writing new songs,” he said. “I can show you the songs. Caleb and I have started to work on the arrangements. Please give me a chance. Let me prove myself.” Words almost tumbled over each other as he sought a way through her anger, her doubt. “Please.”
“I’m going to be busy with the club,” she said.
“Let me help. Caleb and I were talking earlier. The acoustics are excellent, and we thought it would make a great place for us to rehearse our new material. Somewhere off the radar. Of course, we’d pay you for use of the space.”
He didn’t know what he’d do if she refused. Nah, that was a lie. Even if he had to camp outside with a guitar and play songs on the street, he’d spend his hours with her, attempting to change her mind.
“All right,” she said after a long pause,
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