The Homecoming Page 5

  He cut the engine and climbed off the bike, then helped her to stand. Her fingers clutched at his and he realized she was a little off-balance, so he slid an arm around her. “You okay?”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes. Just a moment of dizziness. I don’t know why.”

  Swimming through God only knew what kind of surf and hitting your head on a rock might have something to do with it, he could have said. But she knew that already. “This cove is where you’ll come when you’re ready to leave the island. Isn’t it pretty?”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. He looked around, seeing it through her eyes. At the right side of the cove was the boat dock, where the water got deep a little faster than around the left side of the circular beach area. Several hundred yards offshore, the waves boiled up against the reef that protected the cove from the stronger surf.

  “How do you get in and out of here? That looks dangerous.” She was pointing in the direction he’d been looking.

  “It is,” he said. He dropped his arm and moved a pace away, a little unnerved how easy it felt to be with Sydney, to touch her as if they’d been touching for a long, long time. “But there’s a big break in the reef around that headland to the right, and pilots who know the way in have no trouble. I don’t usually swim here but it’s possible over at the west end away from the currents.”

  He felt her actually shudder. “I don’t think you have to worry about me swimming.”

  After they left Boat Cove, as it was known, he took her northwest around the island, following the beaches. “We have a lot more sand beaches here than the eastern islands do,” he told her as they stood on a wide, sandy beach and watched breakers curl over an offshore reef. “Those islands are geologically a lot newer and haven’t had time to build up the beaches or the reefs like this island has.”

  Danny shook out a blanket and sat down, stretching his legs and patting the place beside him. “Take a break. You probably could use a little rest.”

  “I hate to admit it, but you’re right.” She sat down a decorous distance from him, drawing up her knees and looping her arms around them as she gazed out to sea. “I’ve never been to Hawaii before,” she said. “I had so much planned and here I sit on one little island, recuperating.” She sighed.

  A tingle of excitement that he hadn’t felt in years shot through him. She was remembering more! Carefully, he said, “What kinds of things were you planning to do?”

  “I wanted to see the Big Island while I was here,” she said. “Get a close look at the volcanoes and maybe a lava flow. And I wanted to visit Pearl Harbor and tour the Arizona memorial on Oahu. It’s all so beautiful, but I understand that each island is different.”

  He nodded. “Kauai has the distinction of having the wettest place on earth. The Big Island has Kilauea, the world’s most active volcano. Each of the others has its own special something.” He paused, then deliberately gave her a test. “Why did you start with Kauai?”

  “I had to—” She stopped, whipped her head around to stare at him. “I remembered more, didn’t I?”

  He had to smile at her excitement. “You did.”

  “But…” Her obvious pleasure was fading fast. “When you asked me about Kauai, I got the strongest feeling that there was something I had to do here first. Something I had to finish before I went home.” Her gaze grew unfocused, though no less intense. “But I can’t remember what it was.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder and massaged, feeling the fragile joint, the smooth curve of her supple skin beneath his hand. “It’ll come. Look at what just happened.”

  She sighed, an immense exhalation that shook her entire frame. “I hope so.” She looked as pitiful as a balloon that had suddenly lost half its helium, and her misery affected him.

  Pulling her close, he rubbed her back for a moment. “It’ll come,” he repeated. Maybe, he thought, he should hire a private detective. He could find out all about her life for her.

  But Eddie had told him it was better if she remembered it for herself. And she’d already begun to recall her name, her family and major parts of her life. He’d wait awhile and see how much she got back before she was ready to leave. He’d prefer she remember and share it with him of her own free will.

  He continued to stroke her back, enjoying the silky resiliency of her body beneath his palms as his pulse began to speed up. Sydney turned her face into his neck and laid her head against his shoulder, and her breath whispered across his skin. His breath caught in his throat and his heart stuttered. It would be so easy to draw her down onto the blanket they shared, to explore the feminine treasures of her body—

  Whoa. What was he thinking? He was appalled at the intimacy he’d just created. They were alone on a deserted beach and he held her in his arms. A rogue wave of longing surged high and swept over him, urging him to drop his head and set his mouth against her soft pink lips. He wanted it so badly he actually felt his tense muscles shaking as he fought the need that had him tumbling in its rough surf. Releasing her, he surged to his feet. “Well. We should get going if you want to see the rest of the island’s attractions.”

  Sydney was already gathering up the blanket and shaking out the sand. “Actually, I’m getting tired. It probably would be best if I went back and took a nap.”

  He was an idiot, he told himself as he pushed the ATV engine to its limits zipping up the steep hill to the house. Sydney’s arms were snug around his waist, and he could feel the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against his back, the way the V of her thighs embraced him. He was appalled and fascinated with himself at the same time. He hadn’t imagined he’d ever feel such a strong need to make love to a woman again. It was almost a relief to know his body still yearned for feminine contact, even though he and his right hand were perfectly capable of taking care of his needs himself.

  But he didn’t need Sydney, he reminded himself forcefully. He didn’t need anyone, and the last thing he wanted was to be any more involved in her life than he already was.

  Four

  She surely wished she knew what had happened down on the beach earlier, Sydney thought as she soaked in a bath of scented bubbles Leilani had produced from somewhere.

  Danny Crosby was the most attractive man she’d ever met. She might not have all her memories but she was certain of that. When he’d hugged her, she’d known it was only meant as a gesture of comfort. But then the embrace had changed. She’d felt the quality of his caressing hands go from impersonal to something far more intimate, felt his body trembling against hers, felt him shudder when she’d given in to temptation and nuzzled her face into his neck.

  She hadn’t set out to tease him, she reassured herself. Whatever had happened had taken her as much by surprise as it apparently had Danny. But it had felt so right.

  She wasn’t one to ignore destiny, especially when it hit her over the head. As it literally nearly had.

  Danny, on the other hand, clearly hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the connection they’d shared. He’d held her for one all-too-brief moment and then he’d shot to his feet as though there was a rocket beneath his butt. He’d acted as if nothing of consequence had happened, and she’d followed his lead.

  But she was fairly certain that he had been as aware of her as she had been of him. That wonderful feeling hadn’t been all one-sided. She finished her bath and donned a short flowered robe. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she was tired, and she had just lain across the wide bed with her head cradled on her arms when someone knocked at the door.

  “Come in.” She rolled over and started to sit up, expecting Leilani. But it was Danny who entered as the door opened.

  Sydney scrambled off the bed, mortified. The robe was short and she knew it hadn’t been covering her bottom. All she had beneath it were the tiny bikini panties she’d been wearing when she’d washed up on the beach.

  “Sorry.” Danny sounded as embarrassed as she was.

  “It’s all right.” She hated that she sounded bre
athless.

  “I, uh, brought you something.” He stepped into the room and held up a suitcase, a purse and a small backpack.

  “Oh!” She recognized them at once. “My things!” She was utterly delighted and touched by his thoughtfulness. “You got these from the hotel?”

  He nodded. “No big deal. I thought you might like to have your own clothes. I checked you out so they wouldn’t charge you for a room you weren’t using, but they’ve promised to have a room for you when and if you decide to go back.”

  She tugged down the little flowered robe and crossed the room. “Thank you!”

  “You’re welcome.” He handed her the purse and the small backpack but when she reached for the suitcase he didn’t relinquish it. “This is heavy. Where would you like it?”

  Her hand was snuggled up against his on the handle of the suitcase and his large body was close. Flustered, she stepped back and looked around the room. “Over there.”

  “Over there” was a wide upholstered bench just inside the doors to her small private terrace. Danny crossed the room and set the suitcase down.

  Trailing him, Sydney placed the other bags beside it. “I guess I have a key somewhere,” she said doubtfully, looking at the lock. “It’s another one of those dopey little details that’s still eluding me.”

  “Why don’t you check before I go?” he suggested. “If not, I’ll have Johnny open it. That man can do anything.”

  She smiled. She’d only met Leilani’s husband once but having seen the housekeeper in action, she wasn’t surprised that her husband was equally capable.

  Picking up the capacious shoulder bag, she unzipped the center pocket and peered inside. As the contents came into view, her memories of them came rushing back as well.

  “Oh! I know exactly where it is.” She dug into an inner side pocket and came up with a small brass key, then straightened and dangled it triumphantly in Danny’s face. “See?”

  Smiling down at her, he took her wrist and moved the key away from his nose. “That’s great. So now you remember what’s in there?”

  She nodded. “And in there and there.” Her smile faded a little. “I hope when I see Nick—my son—I remember everything else as easily.”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “I can see his face but it’s like a painting. I can’t hear his voice, and I don’t know what he likes and dislikes. I can’t really even recall how it feels to hold him.”

  Danny’s fingers were still loosely circling her wrist, now down at her side. As he looked down at her, his eyes were very blue and very warm, although there was a shadow of sorrow deep in their depths that made her sorry she’d mentioned her son again. “It’s coming back, piece by piece. You’ll remember.”

  The utter certainty in his tone brought tears to her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, fighting to keep her voice even. She put her free hand to his cheek. “I wouldn’t have been able to deal with this without your help.” She tried to smile. “They’d probably have me in a little padded room somewhere.”

  One of his rare smiles caught at the corner of his lips. “I doubt that.”

  She couldn’t hold back her own smile and for a moment they stood like that, just staring at each other. The strong pull of intense attraction swept through her again, and even as it registered, she saw an answering need in his eyes.

  Slowly, still holding his gaze, she moved her thumb across the rough stubble of his jaw. Danny’s free hand came up and cradled hers, holding it there while he turned his face into her palm. His eyes closed and she felt the soft, moist touch of his lips against her palm. Her body throbbed. She felt like a magnet being irresistibly drawn to its opposite. Kiss me, her body whispered. Touch me. And as she swayed forward, she knew that his body heard.

  “Danny,” she breathed.

  His eyes opened and she felt him press the briefest of kisses into her palm. Then he stepped back slowly, letting her wrists slide free, and his eyes were no longer a passionate electric blue, but a soft, sad color that begged for her understanding. “I have to go,” he said quietly.

  And before she could gather her scattered senses and form a response, he was gone.

  Shaking, she sank onto the edge of the bench holding her suitcase. She raised her palm and inspected it, fully expecting to see scorch marks where his lips had touched her. No scorching. Slowly, she raised the hand to her mouth and touched her lips to the spot where his had rested. “Danny,” she whispered again.

  What did she want from him? It was hard to think rationally through the daze of sensuality that still held her in its grip. He made her practically limp with longing, and she knew without remembering so that she’d never felt the same way before. No man had ever made her knees wobble merely by touching her wrist or her palm.

  She let her hand drop and it landed on her purse. Absently, she picked up the bag and set it in her lap. Distracted, she glanced down at it, and inside the open compartment saw her wallet.

  Reaching in, she pulled out the small item and un-snapped it. Several photo sleeves ruffled as she did so and she slowly thumbed through them.

  Nicholas. Her little Nick, in his soccer uniform, beaming. She remembered more now. He’d been so thrilled to play on the youngest of the youth league teams last year. In another he was much smaller, little more than a toddler, in a bright yellow and black bumblebee costume complete with tiny antennae on the hood. He carried a plastic pumpkin in one hand, preparing to go trick-or-treating. Several others were posed studio shots, in little bathing trunks on a simulated beach, all dressed up in what was clearly his Easter suit, sitting in pajamas in front of a Christmas fireplace scene.

  He was adorable, and he was no longer a cardboard cutout. She remembered his giggle, the way he’d had trouble saying Ls—they came out Rs when he was tiny—the clean smell of his freshly shampooed hair when he sat on her lap for his nightly story. But something…something was still missing, and it was driving her crazy. Whatever it was, it hovered right on the edge of her consciousness, but whenever she tried to bring it forward it shied away, back into the shadows. Why couldn’t she remember every detail of her son’s life? She knew the name of his preschool teacher but not his father. It was hard to imagine she’d been intimate with a man and now she couldn’t even remember him. Could her son have been adopted?

  An odd sense of panic swelled out of nowhere and she actually leaped to her feet, the purse and its contents spilling onto the floor. Thoroughly agitated, she knelt and began randomly gathering items and shoving them back into the bag.

  What on earth was wrong? Her chest felt tight and she rubbed a hand over her breastbone, trying to make herself more comfortable. She’d been thinking about her son. Nick. Why would that upset her?

  Making an effort to breathe deeply and relax, she opened the knapsack and larger suitcase and deliberately began to remove the items, stacking them neatly in the drawers of the dresser Leilani had told her she was welcome to use. Not that she’d had anything to put in it initially.

  The simple actions calmed her more than anything, handling familiar items, savoring the memories associated with them. The flirty little sundress she’d shopped for with her mother before she’d left. The Portland Rose Festival T-shirt, the Oregon Zoo tank top from when she’d chaperoned Nick’s preschool class, another T-shirt— Her fingers faltered as she saw the logo on it: Children’s Connection.

  Children’s Connection was a nationally known fertility treatment center and adoption foundation that had started out years ago as a local orphanage and adoption agency. She knew that, could even picture the building’s location, attached as it was to Portland General Hospital.

  She couldn’t explain the returning sense of unease, if not outright panic, that was crawling up her throat again. Hastily, she set the shirt in the drawer with the others and closed it, then put away several pairs of shorts and another sundress.

  Danny had said her memory would return, she reminded herself as she took deep, slow breaths. And it
had, in bits and pieces. The rest would come. She just had to be patient. Lucky for her, patience was one of her strengths. It had better be, because Danny Crosby was going to require a lot of it.

  Thinking of Danny immediately distracted her. She was…awed by the feelings he awoke in her. There were unspoken wishes in his blue eyes that touched her deep inside, added to the undeniable physical pull they shared.

  But what was she thinking? She had to go home. She had to hope she regained the rest of her memory. She had to mother her son. Getting involved with Danny would be a bad, bad idea. He’d lost his best childhood friend and his own son to abductions. It was a bizarre coincidence, and enough to mess him up for life. Learning that his friend was alive after all these years had to be dredging up all kinds of feelings he’d probably iced over by now just to survive.

  And then there was his wife. A tiny spark of anger flared within her. How could anyone think only of themselves in such a devastating situation? Hadn’t the woman known how much Danny needed her? She was all he had left, and when she’d taken her own life she’d abandoned him. Rejected him, in a way. You’re not enough, she’d said. Sydney was certain that if she’d been Danny’s wife, she would have wanted to share the memories they had of their baby, to grieve and to hope and to fear together.

  But she wasn’t his wife. And it didn’t matter how attracted she was to him, how compelling those blue eyes were, she couldn’t get involved with him. He was a train wreck of emotional baggage that she knew she wasn’t equipped for. Unquestionably, she should steer clear of Danny Crosby.

  Danny stood on the terrace off his bedroom that evening and wished like hell he hadn’t quit smoking. Maybe if he had something to do with his hands he wouldn’t feel this jumpy, insistent need that Sydney Aston had aroused in him.

  Until she’d come, he’d been happy. Okay, not happy, but serene. Life was predictable and dull, exactly what he wanted after the tumultuous events that had followed him through childhood, into adolescence and ultimately even into his marriage. He never intended to care for another person again. Felicia had cured him of that. Not intentionally. He understood that she hadn’t meant to harm him when she sat down in that bathtub and cut her wrists open. Her pain had been so raw, so overwhelming that she hadn’t been able to see beyond it.