“The men in black. You noticed those stiff fellows standing around, didn’t you?”
She nodded. She’d assumed they were his bodyguards or something.
“Dane sent them to make sure I don’t run off. Apparently it took him a while to find me.” He chuckled. “Why bother, huh? The family seems to have done fine without me for the last year.”
“I’m sure your mother misses you.” Nobody could dispute Ceinlys was a maternal woman. That had surprised Ginger. She’d assumed somebody as worldly and status-conscious would have other interests that could keep her occupied.
He said nothing.
“How much do you remember, really?” Ginger asked.
“Before the accident? Not much.”
“Don’t you want to go see your family then? Find out who you are?”
He was quiet for so long she thought he might not respond. Then he said, “Everyone gets a gut feeling sometimes. The one I have now says I don’t want to go back.”
She frowned. He had his issues with his parents, but he was close to some of his siblings. And what about her? Hadn’t she meant something to him?
Her feet dug into the cool, soft sand. She looked out over the water, virtually black all the way to the barely perceivable horizon, and the waves came in a languid succession. She moved closer until one came in and covered her toes with its foamy edge.
Suddenly the sky opened and water began pouring down. She blinked as she was instantly drenched. Shane remained next to her, making no move to run back to the house.
Bittersweet memories danced through her mind—how the two of them used to stand in the torrential rains of Thailand. So very different from the occasional Los Angeles rain—the fierce intensity of it and the hot moist air that dissipated as the sea breeze pushed it away. It was cleansing, an absolution for the soul as they stood together.
She looked at Shane. His hair stuck to his skull, and his profile blurred from the needle-sharp rain. He looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but think that he must remember a lot more than he thought. And that his instincts were probably intact. It was in the way he’d been taking photos earlier when she arrived, how comfortable he’d looked with his camera, the way he’d held it.
Then what had been his true feelings for her all along? What had changed his reaction to her so much?
Chapter Three
Did she have any idea how much he wanted to pull her into his arms right now and claim those vulnerable lips?
Ginger didn’t seem aware, but the rain had turned her shirt transparent. Her bra must’ve been one of those flimsy ones because Shane could see the pink areolas clearly. Her nipples grew pointed and sharp, and his mouth watered. He wanted to pull them in and suckle them until she cried out and clung to him.
Shane took a step closer. When she didn’t move except to blink away the rain drops clinging to her thick eyelashes, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
His senses clarified, colors and texture and scent intensifying. In the center of all this was her—the ever beautiful Ginger.
She gave a small gasp. The soft sound went straight to his groin, and he seized the moment to deepen the kiss. He didn’t want her thinking about how he’d wronged her in South Africa or any other bullshit like that. He hadn’t remembered—he had a doctor’s note—and that deserved a “get out of jail free” card.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth again, cupping her sweet ass in his palm. Damn she tasted like fire and honey, and he was rock hard against her. Her body pliable, she pulled him closer, then sucked his tongue like she had his cock in her mouth.
His skin tightened, stretched thinly over a hot need that was growing bigger and bigger. There was such a rightness in having her in his arms, his senses sang.
She adjusted herself until she could rub her hot core against his aching cock. He groaned deep in his throat. He wanted her so bad right now. If it hadn’t been for the rain, he might have taken her on the beach.
Ginger was absolutely shameless and gloriously sensual. He must’ve been absolutely mad to have left her in the first place to go to Johannesburg. If he’d been in his right state of mind, he would’ve spent all his life with his cock buried deep inside her tight pussy or enthusiastic mouth. And he would’ve eaten her, so he could taste her sweet orgasm on his tongue.
He ran his tongue and lips along her jaw line as he flicked the tip of her breast with his thumb. She moaned and rocked faster against him.
He pulled her nipple into his mouth, shirt and all. She cried out, her back arching. He cursed inwardly at the damned shorts in his way. She should never, ever wear them again so he could touch her whenever, wherever he wanted.
“Shane…I—”
She was about to say something he didn’t want to hear. Tensing, he put two fingers into her mouth and sucked hard on her nipple until his cheeks hollowed. With a groan, she licked his fingers and dug her hand into his hair, keeping him at her breast.
He moved her over and braced her against a palm tree. Using one hand, he managed to unbutton her shorts and slip the fingers under her panties.