He cleared his throat and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Let’s just say I have a newly developed phobia of flying on small planes.”

She frowned. “I must sound so insensitive. I’m just…This has been a rotten trip all the way around.”

“Yes, I suppose it has been for you,” he murmured.

He eased back onto the couch beside her as she tapped intently on the keys. He hated how unsure of himself he was around her. But it was himself he was angry at. Not her.

If she was to be believed, her life had been completely upended. By him.

More and more he had an uneasy feeling that she was telling the truth. No matter how bizarre and unlikely such a scenario seemed. And if she was telling the truth, then he had to figure out what the hell he was going to do with the woman he supposedly loved and the child she carried. His child.

CHAPTER 6

“This reminds me of the nights we spent at my house,” Bryony said as she forked another bite of the seafood into her mouth.

He paused, fork halfway to his own mouth, resigned to hearing more about his uncharacteristic behavior. But she said nothing and resumed eating, her gaze downcast, almost as if she knew how ill at ease he was.

But his curiosity was also piqued because, damn it, something had happened between them and she was the only key he had to recover the missing pieces of his memory.

He forced himself to sound only mildly inquisitive. “What did we do?”

A faraway look entered her eyes and she stared toward the window at the night sky. “We used to sit cross-legged on the deck and eat the dinner I’d cooked. Then I’d lay my head in your lap and you’d stroke my hair while we listened to the ocean and watched the stars.”

Her voice lowered, catching on a husky note. “Then we’d go inside and make love. Sometimes we didn’t make it to the bedroom. Sometimes we did.”

The dreamy quality of her voice affected him fiercely. His body ached and he hardened at the images she provoked. It was suddenly very easy for him to see her spread out before him, his mouth on her skin, her fingers clinging to him as he brought them both pleasure.

He shook his head when he realized he was staring and that he was so tense that his muscles had locked. Part of him wanted to just get it over with. Take her to bed, have sex with her until they both forgot their names. His body was eager enough, but his mind was calling him a damn fool.

And she’d likely think it was some damn experiment after he’d basically admitted earlier that his kiss had been nothing more than that.

An experiment.