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 Shane 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.