His Unforgettable Fiancée (6 page)

Grace groaned. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and rehit the button for her floor. Regardless of the attraction she had for him, both subliminal and overt, she needed to shut it down. On every level—be it prisoner, victim or her boss—JD was off-limits.

And if the seventy-thousand-dollar watch was any indicator, he was out of her league, as well.

Her savings, the life insurance and what Dad left her put her in good shape financially. Enough so she didn’t have to rush into a new job. She could take her time, really weigh her options and choose the right position for her. But she was nowhere near millionaire status.

How much money did you have to have to feel comfortable dropping nearly a hundred thousand on a watch? Lots. And lots.

More than a military brat was accustomed to.

She let herself into the room and found JD still sleeping in his bed. Or was it her bed?

Oh, no. She was
not
going down that tract again. Especially not with him stretched out right across the way.

She gave serious thought to waking him so they could go shopping, getting them both out of the room altogether. But he needed to heal, and the rest did him good in that regard.

Next came the idea of taking off and doing the shopping without him. He shouldn’t care. Men rarely cared about missing a shopping spree. Except he would care. He wanted control of his life, which for JD, came down to picking out his own pair of jeans, and whatever else he decided he needed.

She wasn’t so desperate to dodge her thoughts that she’d deny him his first steps of independence.

Feeling righteous, she stretched out on her bed and closed her eyes. But they didn’t stay closed. She wasn’t sleepy, and she wasn’t usually the type to nap. Which meant she lay there, staring at the long lean length of JD sprawled in the bed across from her. And he looked good, causing her to have totally inappropriate, lascivious thoughts about her boss.

Unable to take it, she flipped over. Better to stare at the wall. Except she could still smell him. There was no escaping the yummy scent of soap and man.

Sheesh, she was in so much trouble.

Giving up, she swung her feet to the floor. Grabbing shorts and a T-shirt out of her duffel, she stepped into the bathroom and quickly changed. After updating her note, she headed out the door again.

Maybe she could pound him out of her head in the gym.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Y
OU
WERE
SLEEPING
. I had calls to make and I didn’t want to disturb you.” She paused to look at a window display of boots. “I left you a note.”

He’d seen it. A few words jotted on a hotel notepad stating she’d gone to the lobby, and then that had been crossed off and the word
gym
added. Envy caused his shoulders to tense for a moment. His restlessness told him he led a more physical life, if not manual labor, then he had the use of a gym. He would have joined her when he saw the note, except he had enough smarts to know his head couldn’t take the physical exertion right now.

Not that he’d admit that out loud and give Grace any leverage.

Maybe that’s what had him in a foul mood. He’d hired her, yet she was still calling the shots. Maybe his ego stung. Yet the explanation didn’t fit. His ego may have taken a hit, but his intelligence recognized the reasoning. And accepted Grace had no control over the timing or the fact her friend was out of state.

It was the helplessness that grated on him. He hated it.

For a while after he woke up and read the note, he’d thought she’d abandoned him. That she wised up after his attack in the parking lot and finally left him. It didn’t even matter that her duffel was still there. He’d been totally, irrationally freaked.

At least they were finally doing something. Even shopping beat sitting on his hands.

“Good. Because I would never hurt you.” He felt compelled to reassure her. “It was an instinctive reaction when I struck out at you in the parking lot last night.”

“I know.” She met his gaze with confidence before turning those stunning blue eyes back to the boots. “Like any cop, a master-at-arms learns to read people. I wouldn’t be here with you if I felt threatened in any way.”

“Right.” In jeans and a beige sweater all traces of Sheriff Delaney were gone. The loving cling of her sweater over the generous swell of her breasts knocked all thoughts of her uniform from his damaged mind. “As long as we’re both clear on that point.”

“We are.” She pulled wistful eyes away from the tall, black leather boots in the window and moved on. She tossed him a teasing glance over her shoulder. “Are you afraid of me?”

Yes. The answer came without thought, without foundation. Why would he be afraid of her?

“I don’t know. When you get your tough on, you’re scary.”

The corner of her mouth curled up in a pleased smirk. He had to smile. She enjoyed being a tough cookie.

“Of course, the rest of the time you’re a marshmallow.”

“I am not.” Totally outraged she swung into his path. “Take that back.”

“Marshmallow.”

“Take it back, or I’ll leave you here to do your shopping alone.”

“Would never happen. You’re too nice. You need to help. You can’t help yourself.”

“Don’t test me, JD. I’ve been trained by the best to do what needs to be done.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “You win. You’re one scary dude.” He got the words out, but not with a straight face. His lips twitched a couple of times.

“Hmm.” She surveyed him with narrowed eyes. “Believe it.” She nodded her head to the left. “This shop should have what we need.”

He followed her inside the menswear shop. The masculine feel and smell of the place immediately put him at ease. Much better than the hotel gift shop. He stepped in there for a few minutes and was grateful he wasn’t wearing frolicking seals.

Grace wandered around, pulled a few things off the rack, but made no attempt to sway him. He saw a few things he liked, and then he saw the price tags.

No. He was not going to allow Grace to absorb any more costs for him. Frustration spiked the pounding in his head to a blinding level. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her from the store.

“Where are we going?” she demanded. “Didn’t you see anything you liked?”

“We’re finding a jewelry store. I want my own money.” He stopped at a directory, scanned the specialty listing and turned back the way they came.

Resistance yanked at his hand as Grace dragged her feet. “We agreed you’d get a better estimate for the watch in San Francisco.”

“I need money now.” He didn’t stop. And he didn’t let go.

“You can pay me back.” She caught up to him, worked at freeing her hand. He held on.

“No.”

“JD.”

“No.”

“Can we at least talk about this?” She swerved toward the food court coming up on their right. “Let’s get some lunch and discuss it.”

He hauled her back to his side. “No. We can eat after.”

“Okay.” A touch of temper vibrated through the word. “You’re going to want to stop yanking me around like a yo-yo.”

“You’d be fine if you stopped fighting me.” He spotted the jewelry store up ahead and quickened his step. “I’m the boss, remember?”

“Yeah, well. I don’t usually hold hands with my employers.”

“We’re a small operation.” He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist just to mess with her. “I like to keep things intimate.”

He felt the frost in her glare sting his skin but ignored it as they reached their destination. “We’re here.”

“Good afternoon and Happy New Year’s.” A tall, thin woman with black hair, a black dress and black pumps greeted them as soon as they stepped inside. “I bet I can guess what you’re looking for.” She clapped her hands. “And don’t you make a lovely couple? Goodness, what beautiful babies the two of you will make together. Engagement rings are right over here.”

She headed toward a glass case loaded with glittering diamonds.

JD followed.

Grace continued to yank at her hand.

“There must have been some enchantment in the air this New Year’s.” The woman rounded the case. “You’re the third couple to come in today.”

“Oh, no.” Grace stated emphatically. She gave a mighty tug to free herself. He let go, and then had to catch her elbow to keep her from falling. Stepping away, she stood at attention. “We’re not engaged.”

“Oh.” The woman—her name badge read Monique—looked back and forth between him and Grace. Finally she nodded and gave them a knowing smile. “Maybe for Valentine’s Day?”

Grace’s cheeks turned red. “No, not for Valentine’s Day.”

Monique smirked and held up her hands in surrender. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’d like to get this watch appraised.” He unlatched the watch and set it on the glass counter. “It’s a Cartier.”

“Goodness, a Cartier.” Monique picked up the timepiece and studied it. “I’ve never seen one outside of catalogs. Oh, my, it’s gorgeous. Val will love this. He’ll be the one to appraise it for you. He’s out to lunch but should be back shortly. Do you have proof of purchase?”

“Not on me.” He didn’t hesitate, didn’t look at Grace. “Do I need it to get an appraisal?”

“Not for an appraisal, no. If you wanted to sell it, you would. The owner requires it on high-price items like this.”

“Your discretion is admirable.”

Monique smiled as if he’d flattered her personally. “Thank you.” She held up the watch. “Should I hold on to this for Val to look at?”

“No.” JD took it from her. “We’ll come back. Thank you for your help.”

Placing a hand in the small of Grace’s back, he ushered her from the store.

“Wait.” This time it was her grabbing his hand. “I know you’re frustrated, but it’s for the best. I have a contact I trust looking into the resale value. I should hear from him soon. A jeweler could say anything and you wouldn’t know any better.”

She was right. And it annoyed him that he hadn’t thought of the need for information before negotiation. It only made sense. It was a standard business practice and something he should have known.

Maybe the concussion did mess with his head.

“Okay.” He agreed.

She nodded her approval and made for the food court.

He didn’t budge and she jerked to a stop when she couldn’t go any farther.

“What now?

“Not the food court. We’re not spending any more money until I can buy.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s just lunch. And I’m hungry.”

“Make it quick, then.” He walked to a slated bench and sat. “Because we’re doing this my way.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” She sat next to him and drew out her phone and sent a text. “And stubborn. I think we’ve definitely found your first character trait.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He let his head drop back and closed his eyes. Immediately the soft scent of her filled his senses. Orange blossoms and a hint of ginger, sweetness with a hint of depth. It suited her. And enticed him. Each breath helped to soothe the pain beating at his skull.

She laughed, not a pleasant sound. “Says the stubborn one.”

“Sweet thing, you aren’t in a position to toss stones.” He opened his eyes to see her glance up from her phone.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means you could teach stubborn lessons to a mule. Miss I-Won’t-Compromise-On-My-Responsibilities.”

Rolling her eyes, she went back to her watch search. “That’s called having a sense of duty.”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” He propped his head on a closed fist.

“JD?”

A different quality in her voice and a soft hand on his arm drew him around to her. Blue eyes measured him. “Are you okay?” she demanded. “When was the last time you took your pain medicine?”

He stabbed her with a glare. “And I give you exhibit A.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

She swiveled on her hips to face him. “I can see you’re in pain.”

Nice hips encased in blue denim. “I haven’t been out of pain since I woke up on the side of the road.”

“Which is no reason to be a martyr.”

“I don’t need it.” Rather than look at her he turned his attention to the hat kiosk in front of him, to the rows of caps denoting NFL, NBA and other sports teams. He wondered if he had a team he supported.

“Listen, I know you’re hot to find out who you are, but knowing your name won’t mean a whole lot if you don’t have your memories. When you push it, you may be delaying your recovery.”

“I can’t just sit around doing nothing.” The pounding in his head escalated. He pulled his gaze away from the silver fangs on the football cap of the Las Vegas Strikers. Focused on the beige terrazzo flooring instead. “My mind doesn’t shut off when I’m not moving around. It’s constantly seeking information that’s not there. That hurts more than staying occupied.”

“Okay. I get that. But you need to rest, to heal, especially in these first few days.” She leaned back on the bench and stared out at the post-holiday shoppers. “Obviously the money thing bothers you. I get that, too. You must feel helpless without funds of your own. Why don’t I give you an advance until we get it appraised?”

“No.” She was too generous, too trusting. How could she know he wasn’t making this whole thing up to take advantage of her? As it was, he already owed her too much. Didn’t like the fact she was lending him money at all. The watch meant nothing to him. He’d rather sell it and have his own resources.

“Yes.” She countered. “It’ll only be a few hundred dollars today, because that’s my ATM limit.”

Not waiting for a response from him, she got up and walked away. About a hundred feet up she stepped into an alcove. A few minutes later she was headed back to him.

The woman had no sense of self-preservation at all. Didn’t she understand the risks she was taking with him? She’d been a law enforcement officer. She should know better.

When she held out the money, he folded his arms across his chest and refused to take it.

“Nothing is easy with you. I’m not giving you anything I’m not willing to lose. So far. We may have to work out incremental payments for the watch.”

Okay, that made him feel slightly better. But he still didn’t reach for the money. His resistance didn’t deter her. She rolled the bills up, tucked them in the crook of his elbow and walked away.

“Whatever,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I’m getting something to eat.”

And she had the nerve to call him stubborn.

He was the one with the concussion, but she was the one not thinking right.

She had no reason to trust him. No reason to put her money at risk. Such generosity of spirit was foreign to him. Who knew who he’d be when he got his memory back? He could be a scumbag willing to prey on gullible fools.

Lord, he prayed he wasn’t a scumbag. If that turned out to be the case, better he never regain his memory. Then he’d have a chance to start over. The question then was would his true character bleed through to his new identity?

It was too much to contemplate when his head felt ready to explode.

So yeah, he’d give in, but only on his terms.

He followed her into the food court. Bought a plate of Chinese food—he had to admit it felt good to have money in his pocket—and joined her at a table in the communal dining area.

“Here.” He held his watch out to her.

She just looked at him.

“You’ve lent me money using the watch as collateral. You need to hold on to the collateral.”

She finished a bite of pasta. “That’s not necessary.”

“Yes, it is.” He stared her down.

“All right.” She took the watch and buckled it on. “If it’ll make you happy.” At its tightest point it dangled on her wrist like a bulky bracelet. He’d have to add another notch.

“It does make me happy.” He felt it in the easing of the tension in his shoulders, which emphasized the throbbing in his head. Giving in to the pain, he pulled out his prescription bottle.

Grace watched in silence as he popped a pain pill with a sip of soda. At least she didn’t gloat. Putting up with stubborn was bad enough.

“So you like Chinese?”

“Yeah. This is pretty good.”

“And spicy. Risky, going with the kung pao chicken.”

“I can handle it.” He dug in, savoring the heat, the garlic, the nuttiness.

“How did you know you’d like it?” She wondered.

He shrugged. “One of those things I know without knowing how.”

“So the real you
is
coming through. That has to be good, right?”

Another shrug. Who knew?

She cocked her head to the left. “There’s a movie theater. You want to get out of your head? Let’s go see a movie. Killing a couple of hours in a dark cinema should occupy you and still be restful.”