He arched one eyebrow. “A little? I’m not sure that accurately describes the mind-numbing experience I had. I don’t ever remember losing it like that with any other woman. Was it like that between us before?”

“No,” she said softly. “Not like that.”

“Better?”

“Definitely better.”

“Ah, good then. I was starting to feel threatened by the self I couldn’t remember.”

She laughed and then so did he. It felt good for once to joke about an event that had altered the courses of both their lives. “I’m hungry.”

He lowered his mouth to her breast again. “So am I.”

Laughing, she smacked his shoulder. “For food! It’s been… What time is it anyway?”

He shrugged underneath her palm that had stilled on his shoulder. “Sometime in the wee hours of the morning. We slept a long time. You wore me out.”

“Let’s eat in bed and then…”

He arched an eyebrow as he stared lazily back up at her. “Then what?”

She smiled wickedly. “Then I’m going to have dessert.”

“In that case—” he scrambled up, covers flying “—you stay here. I’ll get us something to eat and be back in a minute.”

She pulled the covers to her chin and snuggled into the pillows, smiling as he strode na**d out of the bedroom. He didn’t look at all abashed by his nudity. Confidence in a man was so sexy. She sighed and stretched, a dreamy smile spreading across her face.

Fifteen minutes later, Rafael returned with a tray holding two saucers. Piled on each was two grilled-cheese sandwiches. There were two glasses of leftover lemonade from lunch.

She sat up as he placed the tray over her lap and her mouth watered at the smell of the buttery grilled bread and melted cheese.

“Oh, this is perfect.”

“Glad you approve. It was all I could think of that would be done this quickly,” Rafael said as he climbed onto the bed. He sat cross-legged in front of her and reached for one of the sandwiches.

They ate, stealing glances, their gazes meeting and then ducking away. She was mesmerized by this unguarded side of Rafael. If possible she was more in love now—after only a few days—than she’d been before. It seemed like he was freer with her now.

She left half of one of the sandwiches and drank the lemonade down then waited patiently for him to finish his own food.

When he would have gotten up to remove the tray, she leaned forward and wrapped her hands around his wrists, holding him motionless. Then she shoved the tray off the bed. It landed with a clatter, the saucers and glasses rolling this way and that.

She kissed him. Not a sweet, nice-girl kiss. She gave him the naughty version that said I’m about to have my wicked way with you.

“Oh, hell,” he groaned.

“Oh, yes,” she purred just before she gave him a shove.

He fell back, sprawled on the bed, his eyes glowing with fierce excitement as she threw one leg over his knees and straddled him.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his straining erection and smiled. “I think it’s time for dessert.”

“Oh, damn…”

She lowered her mouth and ran her tongue around the tip of his penis. His breath hissed out, the sound explosive in the silence. His fingers tangled in her hair and he arched his hips.

“Bryony,” he whispered.

She took him hard, loving and licking every inch of him. She wanted to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. She wanted to show him her love—her heart.

She settled between his legs, her hair drifting down over his hips. His fingers gentled against her scalp and stroked lovingly as she continued making love to him.

He made low sounds of appreciation and of pleasure and he began thrusting upward, seeking more of her mouth. Finally it seemed to be too much for him to bear.

He grasped her shoulders and hauled her up his body until she straddled him.

She scooted up until his erection was against her belly and she carefully wrappped her fingers around his length. Instinctively she glanced back up, seeking direction. He held out his hands for her to grab and when she did, he pulled her toward him.

“Take me,” he whispered. “I made you mine again. Now make me yours.”

Oh, how seductive his husky words were. Prickles of anticipation licked over her skin like flames to dry wood. She rose up, using his hands to brace herself with. Their fingers slid together, twining, symbolic of their joining. She arched over him and he let one of her hands go long enough to position himself at her opening.

As soon as she began the delicious slide downward, he laced their fingers back again and she began the delicate mating dance of a woman reclaiming her man.

Before she’d never felt bold enough to take the initiative in their lovemaking. Rafael had always been the one to take control, had always seen to her pleasure before his own. And yet she preferred this man who wanted her so badly that he found his release before her, who was so lost in passion that he couldn’t control his response. This man seemed more…real.

Now she delighted in teasing him, pleasuring him, taking control and driving him crazy with desire.

It was a heady, intoxicating feeling that only heightened as she watched him through half-lidded eyes.

He squeezed her hands and then took his away from hers. He caressed her h*ps then slid his palms up her sides to cup her breasts, toying and teasing her ni**les as she undulated atop him.

His eyes glittering and his mouth tight, he lowered one hand, splayed it over her pelvis and dipped his thumb between their bodies to rub gently over her clitoris.

She flexed and spasmed around him and they both gasped. He stroked harder, finding a rhythm she responded to, and with his other hand, he caressed and plucked at her nipples, alternating until she was nearly mindless.

How quickly he’d turned the tables. Though she was on top, taking him in and out of her body at her leisure, his hands worked magic, finding all her sweet spots.

“Come for me, Bryony,” he said. “I want to feel your heat around me as you come apart.”

Her head fell back. Her entire body trembled. Her knees shook where they dug into the mattress. Beautiful, intense, vicious tension coiled low in her belly, spread to the spots he so expertly stroked and then it gathered and burst in all directions.

The force of her orgasm was staggering. She fell forward, but he was there to catch her. She braced her hands on his chest, not wanting to leave him, not wanting to stop until he found his own release, but she couldn’t be still.

She writhed uncontrollably. All the while he held her and stroked his hands over her body as he whispered her name over and over in her ear.

She heard a sob, an exclamation of pleasure and knew it was herself, but it sounded so distant that it seemed impossible it could have come from her.

When her strength sagged from her, he simply held her h*ps and took over, thrusting upward into her still quivering body until he went tense underneath her.

Then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down until there was no space separating them. He thrust one last time and then they both went limp on the bed.

She was sprawled atop him. She probably resembled a dishrag, but she couldn’t muster the energy to care.

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, down over her buttocks and then back up to tangle in her hair. He kissed her forehead and then ran his fingers through her hair again.

“That was incredible.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she agreed.

He stroked her arm in a lazy pattern. “What happened here, Bryony? It sure as hell wasn’t just sex. I’ve had just sex before. This doesn’t qualify.”

“No,” she said in a low voice. “It wasn’t just sex.”

“Then what was it?”

She raised her head and stared down into his eyes. “It was making love, Rafael. I love you. You loved me. I’d like to think that didn’t just go away. Some things the heart knows even if the mind hasn’t accepted it or has blocked it out.”

“It scares the hell out of me that something this huge could be forgotten. I haven’t loved anyone before.”

“Never?”

He shook his head. “I’m sure I loved my parents in the beginning. I don’t hate them now. I just don’t think about them, the same way they don’t think about me. I was an inconvenience. They were merely the people who gave me my DNA. It sounds cold, but it is what it is. I’m not saying that because I’m harboring some horrible psychological defect because my mommy doesn’t love me. I’m merely saying that I’ve never deeply loved anyone and now that I supposedly have, I forgot it? It and nothing else?”

“Maybe finally falling in love was so traumatic for you that you blocked it out,” she teased.

“I can’t believe you can joke about this,” he grumbled.

“Well, it’s either laugh or cry and crying gives me a headache. Besides, you’ll remember. I think you’re already starting to. A lot of things are instinctive to you. You don’t treat me like a stranger even though for all practical purposes I am. If you really thought I was unknown to you would you be in my bed sharing your deep, dark secrets?”

“Probably not,” he admitted.

She leaned down to kiss him and then rested her head on his shoulder again. “One day at a time, Rafe. It’s all we can do and hope that each day brings us closer to the time you remember us.”

He tightened his arm around her and kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure I deserve your sweetness or your patience, but I’m damn grateful for both.”

Sixteen

When his BlackBerry rang first thing the next morning, Rafael knew by the ring tone who it was and he ignored it. Devon had called Cam in. Cam was calling to curse and yell at him that he was a moron who was thinking with his dick.

Cam was predictable if nothing else.

When his phone immediately began to ring again, Rafael cursed and leaned down as far as he could without loosening his hold on Bryony. He managed to drag his pants closer and fish the BlackBerry out. He hit the ignore button first and then hit the power button second.

His business could run without him for a couple of days. He paid many people very good money to think on their feet and be able to handle any situation that arose. It was time to give them the freedom to do what he’d hired them to do.

Oddly, in the past such an idea would make the control freak in him break out in hives. Now, he reasoned that he parted with good money so that he could occasionally enjoy a break.

Maybe Bryony was right. He didn’t have to be the person he’d always been. Furthermore, she was right in that he would make sacrifices for his son or daughter.

He didn’t want to be an absentee father. He didn’t want to be like his own father, who thought being a provider was his only obligation to his family.

There was a hell of a lot more to parenthood than providing all the material necessities. Rafael wanted to be there for all the school plays, the soccer games. He wanted to be the one to put money under his kid’s pillow when he lost a tooth and pretend that it was the tooth fairy.

He wanted to be a father. The best father he could be.

He gazed down at Bryony, whose head was pillowed on his shoulder. The morning sun shone on her skin, giving it a translucent, angelic glow. She looked at peace. She looked content. She looked…loved.

Then his mind kicked in with a screaming whoa.

No way was he falling for this woman after only a few days.

But had it been just a few days? Or was he responding to the weeks they’d spent together before?

It could be she was right. On some level he remembered her, recognized her as the woman he’d chosen. But the woman he’d fallen in love with?

He’d always considered that love was like being struck by lightning. This odd sort of contentment didn’t match with what he considered falling in love might feel like. He damn sure hadn’t thought it could be so…easy.

Easy. Yeah. Love was complicated, wasn’t it? No one managed to pull it off in a few days. It was the good sex talking.

But, no. Bryony had been right about one thing. It wasn’t just sex. Calling it that cheapened it on some level. Reduced it to the level of flirtatious, sex-only relationships he’d had in the past. A quick romp in bed, send the woman on her way. Move on to the next.

Nothing about his past experiences came even close to the way he felt about Bryony or the way he felt about making love to her.

Last night had felt like something he’d been anticipating forever. A sense of homecoming that was so keen, it had nearly flattened him. He’d been ridiculously emotional, like he wanted to go around blurting out how he felt and crap. The mere idea should have humiliated the hell out of him, but it didn’t.

Being forthright with Bryony just felt natural. She’d played it completely straight with him. He’d played it straight with her even when it had meant admitting or saying something that had hurt her.

It was weird being this honest and open with a woman—hell, with anyone. He trusted Ryan, Dev and Cam, but he never talked about intensely personal issues with them. Not that they wouldn’t listen, but that wasn’t the nature of their relationship.

His thoughts flickered back to the woman in his arms. Yeah, she did odd things to him. Made him want to do stuff, different stuff. Stuff that should have him running the other direction.

He sighed. This was a woman a man kept. Maybe he’d known that when he met her. Maybe it was true that a man just knew when he’d met the woman who would change everything for him.

Bryony was the marrying kind. Not the bed-’em-and-leave-’em-with-a-smile kind of woman. She had permanent written all over her sweet face.