One Unforgettable Weekend. Andrea Laurence. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Andrea Laurence
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474076524
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the way Aidan said the word. It was the same way whenever someone said it. Amnesia sounded like something that only existed in a soap opera, not a real-life medical condition. And yet that was what it was. An entire week of her life had been erased from her brain as though it never happened.

      The doctors told her that eventually, the memories would return, but they couldn’t predict when or how. She might get little flashes over time or a sense of déjà vu, or it might come back suddenly like a tidal wave washing over her.

      It had been the latter. When he looked at her with those big, blue eyes and said his name, it was like the earth had shifted beneath her feet. In an instant, her mind was flooded with images of the two of them together. Naked and sweaty. Laughing. Eating takeout in bed and talking for hours. She fought the urge to blush in embarrassment having such intimate memories about a virtual stranger. But those thoughts were quickly wiped away by the realization of what it all meant for her.

      That was what had caused the tears.

      She’d spent fifteen months wondering what she’d forgotten when she’d lost that week of her life. Right after the accident, she’d been determined to recover her memories. Eventually she’d put those worries aside when she’d realized she was pregnant. From there on out, her attention turned to her engagement with her longtime boyfriend, Beau Rosso, and planning for the arrival of their first baby together.

      Then the baby arrived and the missing week of her life became more important than ever before.

      “I know,” she said, raising her hand to halt any argument he might have. “It sounds crazy. Until it happened to me, I would’ve said it was ridiculous, but that’s what the doctors told me. I’ve spent nearly a year and a half trying to get those memories back. But there was nothing, not a flicker of that week of my life, until just now.”

      Aidan ran his hand through the shaggy ginger curls of his hair and arched his brow. “So, what exactly did you just remember about me?” He awaited her response with a smug curl of his lips.

      This time, Violet couldn’t prevent the blush the memories brought to her cheeks. She didn’t like feeling as though she were at a disadvantage in any situation and knowing he had the ability to ruffle her was unsettling enough. “I, uh,” she began, “remember coming into the bar. You worked there?”

      At that, he grinned. “Worse. I own it.”

      Violet nodded, trying not to sigh in relief. She wasn’t one to make a habit of having flings with bartenders. She was a shipping heiress to one of the largest family fortunes in Europe and she’d been raised to act accordingly. Her grandfather would roll in his grave if he thought Violet was slumming with a bartender. Then again, she wasn’t prone to having flings with bar owners, either, but at least he was a business owner and not a hot guy who paid his rent with a seductive smile and tips.

      Violet bit at her lip, trying to sort through all her new memories. She remembered going to the bar, although she didn’t know why. It wasn’t a place she’d ever visited before. She could recall the exact moment she’d laid eyes on Aidan. Laughing, talking, closing the bar down. “I remember going back to your place.”

      Her cheeks were burning. There was no way her blush wasn’t obvious now. If the red-hot memories weren’t enough, the way Aidan looked at her from over the desk would do it. “I think we both know what happened after that,” she said.

      Aidan nodded slowly. “I’ve relived that weekend with you in my mind dozens of times, trying to figure out what I did wrong.”

      Violet pushed aside the stirring images, suppressing the heat that had started circling in her belly. “What do you mean? I may not remember everything yet, but I don’t remember you doing anything wrong.”

      “Well, you left, didn’t you? I woke up Sunday morning with a cold stretch of mattress beside me. When did you even leave? I didn’t hear a thing.”

      Violet tried to remember. She had left his apartment early in the morning, but why? Had she had something she’d needed to do? She felt like that was the answer, although she didn’t know what it could be. Whatever it was, she’d never made it since she’d ended up in the hospital instead. “I had somewhere I needed to be. I didn’t want to wake you up. I was going to call you later.”

      “But you got amnesia,” Aidan interjected with a flat, disbelieving tone.

      “Yes. My phone was crushed in the accident, so I lost any new data since my last backup, which probably included your number. Any memories or traces of our time together were erased from my life.” Well, most of them. One huge daily reminder remained—she just hadn’t realized the significance of it until now.

      “That’s all very convenient.”

      Violet didn’t like his tone. “Are you suggesting that I’m lying about all of this?”

      Aidan just shrugged. “It’s just a pretty big pill to swallow, that’s all.”

      “I assure you that if all I wanted was to discontinue our...” What was it, exactly? Relationship? Affair? Hookup? “Time together, I would’ve had no problem just saying so. There’s no need to make up a story about amnesia and broken phones just to get out of seeing you again.”

      “So you did want to see me again.” It was a statement, not a question. His subdued grin was unnerving, making her muscles tense and her stomach flip. He seemed to like having that effect on her.

      Violet wasn’t entirely sure she minded it, either. She couldn’t remember another man being able to make her stomach flutter with just a glance. Without a touch, with just the memory of a touch, she felt her resolve crumbling beneath her. She wouldn’t tell him the truth, but the nights they’d spent together had been the best she’d ever had. He’d mastered her body almost instantly, playing her like a violin until she nearly made herself hoarse screaming out his name. How could she ever have forgotten it?

      “I did,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

      She followed his gaze as it flickered over to her bare left hand. For months, she’d worn Beau’s engagement ring. Now the tan line had faded and she’d lost the strange sensation that going without it caused.

      “And what about now?”

      That was a dangerous question. Spending a weekend with Aidan was one thing, but now...everything had changed. It just wasn’t that simple any longer.

      “Now isn’t relevant,” she said, avoiding the answer.

      “The hell it isn’t!” Aidan stood up from his seat and rounded her desk. He leaned over her, planting his hands on the arms of her chair. He was close without touching her, his warm scent invading her space even as he hovered at the edge of it.

      Violet’s breath caught in her throat. The large, hulking figure of manhood was so close, tempting her to reach out and close the gap he’d left. The last few months had been scary and lonely. She was tempted to give in to her attraction to him again and let him remind her of everything she’d missed.

      “I’ve spent almost a year and a half wondering what happened to you, Violet. Even when I didn’t want to think about you, when I wanted to just move on, the vision of your naked body writhing beneath mine would creep into my head and derail my thoughts.” He paused, his gaze flicking over her body then returning to her face. “Now you show back up in my life with this wild story and your big doe eyes and you tell me that your attraction to me isn’t relevant?”

      How could she explain that things were more complicated than just whether or not she was attracted to him? There were more factors at play, things she needed to tell him, stuff that went beyond her work at the foundation.

      Aidan leaned in farther, pausing when their lips were a fraction of an inch apart. Violet’s heart was pounding in her chest, her lungs burning with the rapid breaths she was taking. Each one drew his scent into her lungs, reminding her of burying her face in his neck and snuggling into the pillows that smelled like him. He was so close. If she moved,