The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée Read online

  When she’d flown to Johannesburg to see him, she’d found him with another woman. A tall, gorgeous blonde who looked like she should be on the cover of a fashion magazine. Ginger had been paralyzed, feeling by comparison like a drab mouse in her comfortable travel t-shirt and Capri pants. She’d been so stunned she hadn’t even been able to tell him the reason why she’d traveled all that distance to track him down, even as he pushed her out of the suite.

  It had taken her over a month to bring herself back home, and more months before she’d started to feel normal again. She wasn’t going to let Shane shake her now. All she had to do was drag him home. The time for reconciliations was long past. She was never going to leave herself vulnerable again.

  Chapter Two

  One ring. Two. Three…

  Shane muttered, pacing, as Dane didn’t answer. Finally there was a click.

  “Dane Pryce. Leave a message.”

  With an effort, Shane unclenched his jaw. “It’s not going to work the way you want. I’m not coming home like some damned puppy just because you snap your fingers.” He hung up and threw the phone on the couch.

  Damn Dane and his interference.

  Shane didn’t necessarily want to regain his memory as soon as possible. Sure, it was inconvenient when he couldn’t recollect something that people seemed to think he should. But that was a poor reason to rush back to a home he didn’t remember when something was telling him he didn’t want to go “home” and surround himself with his family. After having dealt with Dane for a while, he was beginning to think his subconscious was pretty smart.

  He tossed himself on the couch and stared at the skylight in the vaulted ceiling. Fat clouds tinged with the palest gray glided like a group of blimps. One thing was clear. Despite his initial assumptions, he had to admit Ginger was his real fiancée after all.

  When he’d left the hospital, he’d researched his family. Google had been incredibly helpful, giving him lots of interesting information about his parents and siblings. His father was a womanizer who slept with any female who was young and pretty. His mother bore all of it with a polite smile. That had made Shane shake his head. Nobody would’ve blamed her if she’d brained her husband.

  Then there were his brothers. They all dated models, heiresses and actresses. Gorgeous, leggy women only, please. His sister dated…no one, apparently—probably living like a nun—and worked way too much while drinking copious amounts of alcohol if her career trajectory was to be believed. The Internet didn’t have much about Shane himself, though, maybe because he was the boring and sedate one, without any titillating gossip. The most significant mention of him was the fact that he was engaged to the high school sweetheart he’d been dating since his sophomore year.

  Given the kind of pricey private schools his family had attended, he’d assumed his fiancée would be a wealthy heiress or something, not a woman like Ginger who obviously didn’t come from money. As a matter of fact, he was certain her family couldn’t have afforded to send her to the high school he’d gone to.

  Women will always want you for your money. Enough money can make up for any flaw you have.

  He didn’t remember who’d told him that, but he knew it was true. At the hospital in South Africa, he had his own private room with two dedicated nurses and a doctor who’d come by frequently to check up on his condition. After a day or so of being confined, he’d gotten restless and taken a walk through the hospital. Other patients were in shared rooms with only thin, gauzy curtains around their beds for privacy. Harried nurses took care of them, and doctors rarely spent more than a few moments with each patient before moving on.

  What was the difference between him and them, except for the size of their bank accounts?

  Not even his looks mattered. He knew he was young and attractive. Apparently he’d been blessed with the famous Pryce profile—a classic, clean line that made all the men in his family ridiculously handsome. But it was the money that really made the difference. People wouldn’t have scurried to please him otherwise.

  And women were no different.

  So when Ginger had shown up, claiming to be his fiancée, he hadn’t believed her. He’d assumed she was some sort of con artist, trying to take advantage of his memory loss. She’d tried to tell him things that she said were important, but he hadn’t had the patience to listen to a line of bullshit.

  Of course, he would have acted differently if he’d known she was his real fiancée.

  Peeraya brought in more Thai orchids, and he waved at her.

  “Sawadee-ka,” she said, bowing. She didn’t put her hands together since she had two huge bouquets.

  “Peeraya, have you prepped dinner already?”

  “Not yet. You want for anything particular?” she asked.

  “Phad kra praow seafood,” he said, as it popped into his head.

  “It very spicy.”

  “So?” Did he like spicy food? He shrugged. “I don’t care.”

  “You want mild?”

  He shook his head. “Just make it like you normally would.”

  Peeraya nodded slowly. “All right, sir.”

  * * *

  The phad kra praow was disastrous. Not because there was anything wrong with the ingredients. The seafood was fresh, and everything, even the calamari, had the most perfect texture.

  The problem was the chopped chili peppers. Peeraya had used both red and green. The red variety was already painful enough, but when he’d accidently bitten into a green one, thinking it was a piece of green bean, it felt like the back of his throat would explode.

  Since Ginger was on the other side of the table, he surreptitiously spat out the chili pepper and drank some of the cold tamarind tea. The sweet and tangy brew helped, but it wasn’t enough.

  Ginger on the other hand seemed to enjoy the dish just fine. She even ate one of the green peppers with her rice without any problem.

  He tapped the rim of his glass. Why had he specifically requested this mouth-incinerating abomination? Was it because he somehow knew she’d like it?

  “Peeraya, you’re amazing,” Ginger said. “I’ll never be able to eat Thai food in L.A. again. You’ve ruined me.”

  The housekeeper blushed. “Thank you, madam.”

  Ginger grinned before turning back to her food.

  There was an open pleasure in the way she ate—her flushed cheeks, the soft curve of her mouth and sparkles in her eyes. She also liked the tamarind tea, and it was obvious she was a deeply sensual woman.

  What was she like in bed? No matter how he raked his memory, he couldn’t recall. Was she fiery and a little bit naughty, or was she on the sweet and demure side to match her golden “all American sweetheart” looks?

  It would be mind-blowingly good no matter how she was. He was certain of it, or his body wouldn’t be craving her like this. He wouldn’t be having this tight longing in his gut, and his cock wouldn’t be hardening at the way she licked the glistening sauce from her lips.

  After eating about a quarter of the food, he put his fork down. He wasn’t going to be able to finish it, so he was going to watch her instead for the rest of the dinner while thinking of a way to get her into bed. She was using a guest suite for now, but it was probably because she was peeved at the way he’d treated her in Johannesburg. He’d apologize, then they could have makeup sex. To show her how sorry he was, he’d lick and suck and taste her until she came against his mouth. Then he’d make her orgasm until she couldn’t remember why she’d thought it was a good idea to stay in the guest suite in the first place.

  * * *

  Ginger swallowed the last bite of her food. Shane had that hooded look on his face, which she knew meant he was having dirty thoughts.

  It used to make her hot and whisper naughty things in his ear as she got more and more turned on. But now she was too guarded to be that open with him. Dane had been very specific about what he wanted—bring Shane home and she was done. And she wanted exactly that, nothing else. Being around Sh
ane any more than she had to was foolish. She wasn’t a naïve girl in love anymore.

  Nor did she believe love could be enough. There were things other than a lack of love that could destroy relationships. Because if love could cure everything, the two of them wouldn’t be here right now and she wouldn’t have lost so much.

  She got up. “I’m going for a walk.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “Alone.”

  “It’s late. I wouldn’t feel comfortable you out there by yourself.”

  She snorted. “This place is pretty heavily guarded. There aren’t any unsavory characters lurking around in the dark.” The property no longer had armed guards after the military coup, but it still had guards who looked like they ate nails for breakfast. It was fenced off as well, and she doubted anybody wanted to come in badly enough to tunnel through. Small waterproof lanterns strung on palm trees along the beach provided some light, so people didn’t stumble around in the dark.

  Shane ignored her and followed her out. They didn’t link their hands like they used to—she decided to carry her shoes instead, hooking the straps in her crooked fingers—but his presence was impossible to ignore as he walked next to her. He was so big and warm, like a furnace. The briny breeze did very little to cool her heated skin.

  “It’s nice to be out here without the MIB,” he said, his voice light.

  “What?”

  “The men in black. You noticed those stiff fellows standing around, didn’t you?”

  She nodded. She’d assumed they were his bodyguards or something.

  “Dane sent them to make sure I don’t run off. Apparently it took him a while to find me.” He chuckled. “Why bother, huh? The family seems to have done fine without me for the last year.”

  “I’m sure your mother misses you.” Nobody could dispute Ceinlys was a maternal woman. That had surprised Ginger. She’d assumed somebody as worldly and status-conscious would have other interests that could keep her occupied.

  He said nothing.

  “How much do you remember, really?” Ginger asked.

  “Before the accident? Not much.”

  “Don’t you want to go see your family then? Find out who you are?”

  He was quiet for so long she thought he might not respond. Then he said, “Everyone gets a gut feeling sometimes. The one I have now says I don’t want to go back.”

  She frowned. He had his issues with his parents, but he was close to some of his siblings. And what about her? Hadn’t she meant something to him?

  Her feet dug into the cool, soft sand. She looked out over the water, virtually black all the way to the barely perceivable horizon, and the waves came in a languid succession. She moved closer until one came in and covered her toes with its foamy edge.

  Suddenly the sky opened and water began pouring down. She blinked as she was instantly drenched. Shane remained next to her, making no move to run back to the house.

  Bittersweet memories danced through her mind—how the two of them used to stand in the torrential rains of Thailand. So very different from the occasional Los Angeles rain—the fierce intensity of it and the hot moist air that dissipated as the sea breeze pushed it away. It was cleansing, an absolution for the soul as they stood together.

  She looked at Shane. His hair stuck to his skull, and his profile blurred from the needle-sharp rain. He looked back at her, and she couldn’t help but think that he must remember a lot more than he thought. And that his instincts were probably intact. It was in the way he’d been taking photos earlier when she arrived, how comfortable he’d looked with his camera, the way he’d held it.

  Then what had been his true feelings for her all along? What had changed his reaction to her so much?

  Chapter Three

  Did she have any idea how much he wanted to pull her into his arms right now and claim those vulnerable lips?

  Ginger didn’t seem aware, but the rain had turned her shirt transparent. Her bra must’ve been one of those flimsy ones because Shane could see the pink areolas clearly. Her nipples grew pointed and sharp, and his mouth watered. He wanted to pull them in and suckle them until she cried out and clung to him.

  Shane took a step closer. When she didn’t move except to blink away the rain drops clinging to her thick eyelashes, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  His senses clarified, colors and texture and scent intensifying. In the center of all this was her—the ever beautiful Ginger.

  She gave a small gasp. The soft sound went straight to his groin, and he seized the moment to deepen the kiss. He didn’t want her thinking about how he’d wronged her in South Africa or any other bullshit like that. He hadn’t remembered—he had a doctor’s note—and that deserved a “get out of jail free” card.

  He pushed his tongue into her mouth again, cupping her sweet ass in his palm. Damn she tasted like fire and honey, and he was rock hard against her. Her body pliable, she pulled him closer, then sucked his tongue like she had his cock in her mouth.

  His skin tightened, stretched thinly over a hot need that was growing bigger and bigger. There was such a rightness in having her in his arms, his senses sang.

  She adjusted herself until she could rub her hot core against his aching cock. He groaned deep in his throat. He wanted her so bad right now. If it hadn’t been for the rain, he might have taken her on the beach.

  Ginger was absolutely shameless and gloriously sensual. He must’ve been absolutely mad to have left her in the first place to go to Johannesburg. If he’d been in his right state of mind, he would’ve spent all his life with his cock buried deep inside her tight pussy or enthusiastic mouth. And he would’ve eaten her, so he could taste her sweet orgasm on his tongue.

  He ran his tongue and lips along her jaw line as he flicked the tip of her breast with his thumb. She moaned and rocked faster against him.

  He pulled her nipple into his mouth, shirt and all. She cried out, her back arching. He cursed inwardly at the damned shorts in his way. She should never, ever wear them again so he could touch her whenever, wherever he wanted.

  “Shane…I—”

  She was about to say something he didn’t want to hear. Tensing, he put two fingers into her mouth and sucked hard on her nipple until his cheeks hollowed. With a groan, she licked his fingers and dug her hand into his hair, keeping him at her breast.

  He moved her over and braced her against a palm tree. Using one hand, he managed to unbutton her shorts and slip the fingers under her panties.

  The fabric was cool from the rain, but the folds between her legs were scorching hot and dripping. She moaned against his fingers, the sound and vibration so sexy he felt like he could come at any moment just from that.

  He pulled out his fingers from her mouth and pushed away her shirt and bra. Her breasts popped free, both of her nipples pointed. But the one he’d loved before was rosier and plumper. “You have no idea how beautiful you are right now,” he murmured against it.

  She shivered. “Shane…”

  “You’re going to come for me.” He wrapped his mouth over the other one, trapping it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, as he ran his fingers along her slick sex and thumbed her swollen clit.

  Ginger panted, her breaths choppy and sexy. Her muscles tensed, and he sensed she was getting close. He looked at her face as he continued to torment her nipple with his tongue and teeth. He wanted to know what she was like when she came—the flush of her cheeks and chest and the sound she made.

  He plunged two fingers into her tight channel. She didn’t passively wait for him to finger-fuck her. Rather she moved with him, showing him how she liked it.

  Shane approved. He liked her bold sexuality.

  “Yes, yes, yes…” she panted with every thrust.

  He let her nipple go. “Come for me, Ginger. Now.”

  A wave of strong shudders went through her. Her inner muscles spasmed around his fingers, milking them as an orgasm crashed into her. A high-pitched
cry tore from her as her eyes squeezed shut and her body twisted and arched closer to him.

  He clenched his teeth as he savored her climax. He was so, so damn close. He wanted her so bad it was a physical pain.

  He tore at his shorts, unable to wait. Then she put a hand over his. “Do you have a condom?” she asked.

  “What?” he said dumbly.

  “A condom. I’m not on the pill.”

  He cursed under his breath, and they stood in a sort of unmoving tableau for several moments.

  “It would’ve been a mistake for us to go any further anyway,” she said, her voice subdued.

  “Why?” he asked, suddenly furious. She could feel how hard he was. This was being pretty fucking selfish. “Didn’t you like it? I think everyone around here heard you scream.”

  She flushed, but didn’t look away. “The kiss was a mistake,” she said. “Us having sex is a mistake.”

  “Why deny ourselves? It’s going to be amazing when we’re both naked, skin-to-skin, and I have my dick buried inside you. I felt how wet you were for me.” He raised his hand. “You’re still slick.”

  “I have to protect myself, okay?” she said, her tight fists shaking by her sides. “And not just physically. For you it might be just fun and games, but it’s not for me. You broke my heart once, Shane. I won’t let you do that to me again.”

  * * *

  Ginger fled, holding her clothes to herself, before Shane could say anything. If she’d lingered, she might have given into the need pulsating from his hot body.

  The rain still beat down hard, but she welcomed the cool water sluicing the evidence of her ocean-side tryst away. Her fingers were trembling as she slowed down and adjusted herself near the house. She didn’t want to give Peeraya—or the MIB, as Shane had called them—anything to talk about.

  He was right about how good they were together. No matter how many years they’d dated, the chemistry between them hadn’t cooled—sex was always fantastic. She could always let go and express her sexuality with ease because Shane had embraced it. And apparently he still did, even though he didn’t have his memories.