A Bride Worth Fighting For (8 page)

“Sage suggested I try a yoga class, but I barely finished the first position when I remembered that I like to run.” Her smile returned, and her eyes sparkled. “I’m a runner.”

He’d had no idea. What a joke that he pretended to be engaged to her when he was clueless as to her favorite hobby and the things that brought her joy.

“While I was running,” she continued, “I discovered a lake. The view is gorgeous and stunning, just like everything else here. It reminds me of another lake, a place just as beautiful but with tall grass all around it. I can picture frogs jumping in the water as I wander around the shore. Did I ever take you there? Can you tell me more about it and help me remember?”

He froze, his worst nightmare coming to life, even as she remained eager and excited. Instinctively, he retreated to his position against greedy developers. “The natural habitat of the lake needs to be preserved, not commercialized so you can make a profit.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “I plan to destroy the natural beauty of my lake?”

He hadn’t come to the Wiccan Haus on vacation or to fall in love with his brother’s jilted fiancée. As much he wanted to ignore his conservation duties, he couldn’t give her a free pass to destruction. “The lake isn’t yours. It belongs to the plant life it supports and the animals and fish who need it to maintain their ecosystem.”

“I don’t want to change it or jeopardize anything that grows in the area.”

Tenderness and hope whipped through him, even though he couldn’t hold her to that declaration until her amnesia completely faded. “Do you remember believing that, or are you just telling me what I want to hear?”

She rubbed her temples. “Okay, I don’t know what I actually wanted before, but it seems like this lake memory connects with my urge to run a resort. Does every resort have to leave a giant carbon footprint? What if I planned to create one that supports conservation efforts and makes people more aware of their environment and what they can do to preserve it?”

Lakes and resorts weren’t part of who she really was. Instead of focusing on preservation efforts that had never been on her agenda, he needed to help her focus on her true self, the things that made Gwen Fairfax shine. “Tell me about the jog you took today. What’s it like to be a runner?”

The bright excitement didn’t return to her gaze. If anything, she appeared annoyed with him. “Give me a little credit for knowing you well enough to understand you care a lot more about what happens to plant habitats than how many miles I run each day. If my plans weren’t environmentally friendly, what if I changed them going forward?”

Conservation had always mattered more to him, and he couldn’t deny the appeal of partnering with her to build a nature-friendly business plan. But opening any contentious topic could destroy the fragile trust and fledgling relationship between them.

Memories didn’t change the essence of who she was. They could build something true that didn’t have anything to do with outside forces. He wanted to fall for the woman who looked so happy and excited after returning from a run, the woman who hung on to his every word as if what he had to say really mattered, and the woman who turned soft and pliant in his arms when they kissed.

He’d always believed he could survive a broken heart easier than a destroyed natural habitat. The thought of testing that theory made him afraid both he and Gwen would come out on the losing end.

After lunch, Tucker led the way along a trail of rare and beautiful plants, steering Gwen far away from the lake, the ocean, and the hot springs—anything that might trigger another water memory. They held hands all afternoon, returned to the Haus for dinner, and then strolled the grounds again afterward.

The sun had dipped out of sight by the time they traveled up the winding path to the orchard. She leaned against a sturdy tree trunk and smiled at him. The perfection of their time together washed over him. He didn’t want to remember anything else or contemplate a life beyond the island. He simply wanted to continue living every moment in her sweetness and enjoying their simple pleasures.

Resting his hands on the thick branches on either side of her, he stepped toward her, inhaling the apple fragrance surrounding them.

She traced her fingers over the scruff on his face. “I’ve yet to see what you look like clean-shaven.”

Once she did, would the resemblance to his brother trigger her memory? “Don’t hold your breath. If you wanted a pretty boy, you picked the wrong fiancé.”

Her smile didn’t waver. “I’m happy with the one I’ve got.”

Warmth and guilt spread through him. She might be happy now, but that would all disintegrate once she realized she really did have another fiancé—one she’d actually chosen. “I could make you happier.”

“Really? How so?”

“Like this.” He leaned in until his lips brushed hers. With his arms braced against the tree, he pushed himself away but couldn’t resist returning to her promised sweetness. He angled in, resting his mouth against hers, soaking in her short, wispy breaths.

As he caressed her bottom lip with his tongue, she shivered.

“Good?” he asked, perilously close to trembling from a simple, closed-mouth kiss. Gwen turned even the smallest, most incidental touch into a momentous act worthy of savoring.

She nodded, her eyes wide and glassy.

He bent his head to taste her again. Surrounded by pungent apple scent, he melded his mouth to hers and kissed her with a longing that welled from deep inside.

Tangling his tongue with hers, he drank in her soft moans, aching with the growing need to experience her in every way, to love her thoroughly, to truly make her his.

“Tucker,” she whispered.

“Hmm.”

“Did we ever kiss like this before? How could I not remember something so wonderful and amazing?”

Shit. Of course, their perfect romance was too good to be true. “I don’t know how you can’t remember. I guess if you could, we wouldn’t have had to spend a week here.”

He shoved away from the tree and turned from her. He couldn’t build something from nothing as long as she tried to rediscover what had never existed.

Tucker paced away from the tree, running both hands through his hair. Gwen wanted to follow and recapture the magic from moments before. But, still reeling from the kiss, her knees were too weak to support her without the tree trunk against her back.

If she hadn’t said anything, surely their passion would have eventually sparked her memory. Of course they had kissed like this in the past. Their chemistry had led to their engagement, after all.

But, no, she’d had to remind him that she didn’t remember anything about their relationship, as if he hadn’t been special enough for her to recall. Unable to imagine how anything could be further from the truth, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and reassure him.

Before she could, she needed some reassurance of her own. Why hadn’t even a scrap of recognition surfaced? When she’d discovered the lake, she’d tapped into a foggy memory of her lake. When she’d first laid eyes on the Wiccan Haus, she knew a resort figured into her life.

Why did the memories of Tucker refuse to return?

Perhaps they’d argued about her resort plans. If she’d denied his pleas to preserve the natural habitat, their disagreement could have come close to tearing them apart. No matter how much he loved her, he wouldn’t back down on the environment issues.

But they could talk through it. Whatever their differences in the past, she’d rethink her stance and give compromise another shot. His adamant regard for preserving the natural habitat resonated with her.

“I’m sorry, Tucker,” she called out, digging her nails into the tree trunk. “If you kiss me again, I promise I won’t interrupt with stupid questions.”

“Not a stupid question. As long as you can’t remember, my advances are inappropriate.” He shot a pained smile over his shoulder, making her feel even worse. Her loss of memory couldn’t have been a picnic for him, but all the pampering, special treatment, and support went straight to her, leaving him stuck waiting for her to come around while he had no one to vent his frustrations to.

He didn’t return to her side, so she pushed away from the tree and circled around in front of him. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she stood on tiptoe and leaned into him. “You’re not the only one who can initiate intimacy.”

He turned his head aside, causing her lips to graze the soft stubble on his cheek instead of his mouth. He didn’t want her.

She stepped back, blinking away tears. He was too nice to considering dumping her while she suffered from a mental illness, but he clearly wanted out of their relationship.

They returned to the Haus in silence. She didn’t invite him in for coffee or attack him for a goodnight kiss as he dropped her at her room. Instead, she closed herself in her room and lay on the bed, trying to think of a plan to fix their relationship. He was her rock. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

She fell asleep before she came up with anything, but she awoke in the morning needing to arm herself with as many truths and facts as she could uncover. After dressing, she headed for the front desk in the lobby. “Myron, I need your help. I need some suggestions for old-fashioned memory-jogging activities, and I need to google myself.”

The check-in clerk squinted at her then flipped over three playing cards. “Okay. Come around the counter. You can use the computer while I make a list for you.”

Gwen stepped behind the desk and into an empty chair, feeling even more comfortable than in front of the counter. “What’s with the cards? Are you playing a solitaire game?”

“I’m a card reader.”

“Like a psychic or a witch or something?” she joked.

“Psychic. I leave the witchcraft to Sarka.”

Gwen started to chuckle, but Myron didn’t join in. Okay, then. Better not to think too hard about it. Especially since she had other things she needed to deal with before another headache incapacitated her. After opening an Internet search engine, she typed in her name. Holding her breath, she clicked enter.

Recognizing a social-media page in her name, she scrolled through it, but the most recent posts were a year old, containing updates on her mother’s deteriorating condition and then funeral arrangements. A multitude of condolence messages littered the page. The agony and grief of reading each message washed over her. After the funeral, she’d chosen to step away from social media and give herself time to heal and reflect without sharing every step of the process.

She returned to the search engine. Oddly, the next result for her name was for Wilde Land Development, the company owned by Tucker’s father and, from what he’d told her, managed by his stepmother. She clicked on the link.

The screen refreshed with a picture of an old, stately, yet rundown mansion overlooking a serene lake. She gasped, her fingers trembling on the mouse. Her resort and her lake were not random impressions and memories. They existed in real life.

After several minutes, she tore her gaze from the picture to the caption below. “A new Wilde Development project coming soon.”

Yes, her vague ideas were a reality. She was in the midst of creating a resort. The original plans scrolled through her brain, and she began improving and modifying them, using the information she’d learned from the Wiccan Haus operation and her talks with Tucker. As soon as she returned home, she could get started.

The elevator dinged. She lifted her gaze as Tucker stepped out. Her hand half rose in the air before she curbed the impulse to wave him over. The breakthrough was nothing short of amazing in her opinion, but she now understood the tension in their relationship. He’d been pushed aside when he tried to become involved in his father’s company. Moreover, he strongly disagreed with the way the company was being run.

Why had she put herself at odds with her fiancé? Had she somehow taken the inside track to help him take back the company? The scenario sounded noble and heroic, but she couldn’t convince herself it made sense.

She cleared the search engine history and closed the browser. Then she stood, walking away from the computer and the magical, seductive answers of the Internet.

Tucker had stood beside her, showing unwavering support, never questioning why she didn’t remember him or insisting they resume the status quo of their relationship. Meanwhile, she upset him and let him down with her inability to remember. She wouldn’t hurt him more by asking him to help her decipher the information she’d just learned.

Chemistry and passion still sizzled between them, and at one point it had been so strong they’d believed they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together. She’d focused on herself for long enough. Now she needed to rediscover their magic.

“Tucker.” Gwen approached from across the lobby.

He turned toward her, entranced by the extra sparkle in her eyes. “What are you doing up so early? I would have bet money you were still sleeping.”

“I can’t sleep my life away.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his.

The combination of good cheer, affection, and body heat woke him more effectively than a morning cup of coffee. “Good morning to you, too.”

He couldn’t give in to the temptation to hold her and explore the sweet body pressed against his. She’d started acting like his fiancée, and he had to remember he had no right to touch her as if she were really his. He pulled away before his body betrayed him.

“Here’s the list you requested.” Myron, wearing the name tag
Kate
, handed Gwen a piece of paper as she walked by. Then she smirked at Tucker.

He ignored her and focused on Gwen. “What did you request?”

“Recommendations for jogging my memory.”

“All activities require partner participation,” he read the bold scrawl at the top of the list. He no longer wanted any part in bringing her memory back, but following the list was an excellent alternative to distract him from the “partner participation” activity his cock voted for. “What’s the first item?”