He stared down at her, at a total loss for words.
When finally he shook off the spell, he gestured for her to precede him down the hall. She glanced at his leg as he fell into step beside her. 'You're limping more than before. Are you all right?'
He stabbed the elevator button. 'My bum leg's not used to wild crazy sex in the shower.'
'Oh,' she whispered. 'Sorry.'
'It was worth it,' he said, as the door opened. 'Believe me.'
She stared, aghast, at how much he ate. A stack of blueberry pancakes, a four-egg omelet, home fries, English muffins, spicy sausage patties. He polished it all off with unflagging zeal.
'Dear God,' she breathed. 'Where do you put it all?'
'I don't know.' He grinned. 'Everything just tastes so great.' He signaled the waitress. 'Could you bring me a Belgian waffle, please?'
Erin hid behind him, blushing and cringing while he took care of business at the checkout desk, and they headed out to the car.
'How far are we from the Silver Fork Resort?' she asked.
He braced himself for trouble. 'About forty minutes.'
'Good God!' She looked at her watch. 'We're going to be late! I had no idea we were so far! Why didn't you tell me?'
'What for?' He opened the car door for her. 'They'll live if you're a few minutes late, Erin.'
'You really are trying to sabotage me, aren't you?'
The chill that awaited him when he got into the car was his own damn fault, and he knew it, but it was still a big drag. He'd destroyed the equilibrium they had found, and he missed it. Forty minutes of frigid silence as he negotiated the curves of the coastal highway was plenty of time to examine his motives, but when they arrived at the pretentious wrought iron gates of the resort, he still hadn't decided if he'd made her late on purpose or not. Oh well. Big fucking deal. They were only seventeen minutes late.
Erin jumped out of the car as soon as it stopped moving. Connor got out and hurried after her, seizing her arm. 'Hey. Not so fast.'
'I am furious with you,' she hissed. 'Don't touch me.'
'You're my adoring fiancee now, remember. Don't fight me, Erin, because I don't give a shit what these folks think of me. And I will not hesitate to embarrass you if it suits my purposes.'
'You overbearing lout.' She wrenched her arm away.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tilting her face up to his. 'If you want to argue, let's just get back into the car,' he suggested. 'I don't care how late you are. We can park on the other side of those dunes and get into the back seat and discuss it. I really enjoy the way we resolve our differences. I'm more than ready for another argument.'
'Don't you dare try to intimidate me with sex,' she hissed. 'That is a dirty, nasty trick!'
He held her perfectly still, and smiled. She went up onto her tiptoes and glared like she was facing down a panther. He was getting hard again, for God's sake. 'God, you're so beautiful when you're mad.'
'Go to hell. You really do have a death wish, don't you?'
'I wasn't saying that to piss you off,' he said. 'I'm just stating a fact. You're ten feet tall like this. You're an Amazon. A lesser man would be facedown on the ground gibbering by now.'
Erin's lips twitched in spite of herself. 'Gibbering?'
'At the very least,' he assured her.
She tossed her head and started up the steps. 'I will not be won over by cheap flattery,' she informed him.
He hurried after her. 'What would win you over, Erin? How about four hours of nonstop oral sex?'
'Pig,' she whispered back.
He got there just in time to open the door for her. 'Oink, oink.'
A man and a woman rose to their feet when Connor and Erin walked into the lobby. One was a dried-up, shriveled guy in his fifties with an expensive gray suit. Gray hair, gray eyes, grayish skin. He gave Connor the creeps. The gray guy gave Erin a brief, tight smile of welcome. His eyes flicked coldly over Connor as he shook Erin's hand. 'Ms. Riggs. Thank goodness. We were beginning to worry.'
The woman, a stunning redhead, stepped forward with a dazzling smile. She had brilliant emerald eyes, flawless skin, a voluptuous body. She was dressed in a snug, costly looking, ice-blue suit.
Erin shook the redhead's hand. 'I'm so sorry if I kept you waiting.' She nodded toward Connor. 'This is my… ah, this is Connor McCloud. Connor, this is Nigel Dobbs, and this is Tamara Julian.'
Connor nodded and held out his hand.
Dobbs took it gingerly. 'Er, how do you do?' He sounded as if he would really rather not know.
'Doing great, thanks,' Connor said.
'Hello, Connor McCloud,' Tamara said, in a throaty voice.
Tamara Julian clung to his hand when he tried to pull it back. Her bright emerald eyes swept over him with frank feminine appraisal.
Here was trouble that he did not need. He gave his hand another tug. This time he managed to retrieve it. He looked at Erin. 'So? Better get cracking on those artifacts, babe. It's a long drive back to Seattle.'
She slanted him a warning look. 'It'll take as long as it takes, Connor, as you well know. Did Mr. Mueller arrive safely last night?'
'When I informed him that you would be unable to dine with him, he changed his plans,' Dobbs said. 'He will meet with you later this week when he passes through Seattle. Had he stayed, he would have been uncomfortably rushed to make his plane to Hong Kong.'
Connor let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding.
'Oh. I see.' Erin's voice was subdued. 'I suppose that makes sense, although I'm sorry that I won't be meeting him today.'
'Damn shame,' Connor said. 'Ain't that just too bad.'
Nigel Dobbs gave him a freezing look. 'Indeed it was.'
'You two should have stayed here last night,' Tamara said. 'It would have been a pleasure to have you both at dinner.'
'We wanted to stay in our usual love nest,' Connor said. 'I can't bear to leave this gorgeous woman unaccompanied.' He wrapped his arm around Erin and gave her a squeeze. 'I'd pine away without her.'
Tamara raised her dark, perfectly shaped brows. 'How very sweet,' she said. 'A model fiance.'
'I try,' Connor said.
'Keep trying,' Tamara said.
'Ahem. Shall we?' Dobbs said icily. 'Follow me, please.'
Erin tugged at his arm, but Connor was frozen in place, staring at Tamara. 'Have we met?' he asked.
Her smile widened, dazzled. 'If you have to ask, then the answer is no,' she purred. She placed her hand on his chest, and pressed. 'Believe me, Mr. McCloud. If we had met, you would remember.'
Connor followed them all down the corridor. Erin was freshly pissed off at him again for some reason, but hell, she so often was. He'd better get used to it and not let it block his concentration. Something was nagging him about the redhead.
He'd seen her somewhere. That prickling feeling on the back of his neck was a sure sign. But what Tamara had said was literally true: aside from his weird freak memory, he was a relatively normal flesh and blood guy. No way was he capable of forgetting that face or that body.
So what? So where? How?
He stared at Tamara's back as she marched ahead of them, heels clicking against the pavement. He deliberately unfocused his eyes and brain and threw out the net in his head, to reel in vague, half-formed connections, memories. They flashed by like silver fish, at the blinding speed of thought. The color of her suit jacket melted, blended like ocean foam. A vague pattern began to form. He was reaching for it, grasping—
The vicious elbow jab to his ribs took him by surprise. 'Oof!' he grunted. 'What the fuck was that about?'
Erin's face was pink, her lush mouth compressed into a furious line. 'Could you be slightly less obvious in your ogling, please?'
Then it sank in. Ogling. Tamara. His vacuous gaze while he fished in his mind, probably focused on Tamara's
