Silent Run - Barbara Freethy [86]
She lifted her head and gazed into his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
“The memories aren’t there. I don’t know why I thought they would be.”
She hated causing him more pain. “It was still great.”
“It was sex.”
“It was more than that. You know it was.”
“I don’t know anything.” Moving abruptly, Jake rolled her out of his arms and stood up. He dragged on his jeans and his shirt, seemingly determined to put as much physical space between them as possible. His regret over what had just happened was evident in every tight line in his face.
“I wanted to remember,” she said quietly, despair overwhelming her as she watched him withdraw from her.
“Is that why you said yes?” he challenged. “Was it some kind of experiment?”
She met his gaze and turned the question around. “Is that why you decided to make love to me—as some kind of experiment?”
Hands on his hips, he stared at her for a long moment and then shrugged. “Maybe,” he admitted. “Actually, that’s not true, and I’m not going to lie about it. There have been too many lies between us already.”
“Then what is true?” she asked, wrapping the bedspread around her naked body.
“I wanted you, Sarah. I’ve always wanted you. I can’t seem to get you out of my system. You treated me like shit, and I still want you. How ridiculous is that?”
“I wanted you, too, in this moment, in the present, regardless of what happened before.”
“It’s easy to say the past doesn’t matter when you don’t remember it. But the memories of you and me together are burned into my brain.”
“Jake—”
“Don’t say anything. There’s nothing you can say. I’ve got to get out of here.” He grabbed his keys off the table.
“Where are you going?” she asked in alarm. She wrapped the bedspread around her body as she sat up.
“I need some air. I need to get out of here. I need to get the hell away from you, Sarah.”
“Jake, this isn’t the time to walk away from me.”
“Do you realize we didn’t use any protection?” He paused by the door. “I could have just made you pregnant again. Unless you’re on the pill?”
She stared at him, shocked by his words. What a fool she was. She’d been so caught up in the moment, in the desperate need to remember Jake, that she hadn’t even considered protection.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said, not giving her a chance to answer. “Don’t worry, Sarah; I’ll be back. You and I aren’t done yet. Although I wish to God we were.”
Chapter Eighteen
“What are you doing here?” Shane Hollis couldn’t believe Victor Pennington and Rick Adams were standing in his motel room, wearing their Armani suits and Ferragamo shoes and sporting their two-hundred-dollar haircuts. They were supposed to be in Chicago, waiting for his call. Their presence could mean only one thing: They were unhappy with his performance. He’d always been the weak link in their group, the scholarship student, the one who didn’t really belong, the one they wouldn’t tolerate at all if he didn’t do their dirty work for them. Because he did he was still alive, but he felt a trail of sweat slip down his spine under their intense stares.
Victor was the self-proclaimed leader of their group and had been since college. The son of a Russian actress and the stepson of an American millionaire, he was a mix of raw evil and charming sophistication. Rick Adams was Victor’s right-hand man, another rich kid who boasted more brawn than brain and was built like a tight end. Both men had led charmed lives for a while, graduating from Harvard, running several businesses, making huge amounts of money, and moving more than just art through their gallery. Then all hell had broken loose when the woman Victor was sleeping with betrayed them all—the woman Shane should have killed long before this.
Eight months ago Victor and Rick had been in prison. They would be there now if their rich parents hadn’t convinced the parole board to let them go on good behavior. Now they wanted revenge, especially Victor.
“She’s supposed to be dead,” Rick said. He had an annoying habit of stating the obvious.
Shane glanced at Victor