SYDNEY PULLED INTO the covered parking garage beneath her condominium and killed the engine, sitting for a moment before glancing over at Adam, who seemed totally unaware of the significance of their surroundings. He unfastened his seat belt, then stared at her, waiting. She peered through the windshield, then over the back seat. He did the same. She glanced over at the elevator, the balcony, the winding open-air staircase that led to a walkway between his old building and hers—officially, the place where they’d literally first bumped into each other.
Nothing.
“No bells ringing in that head of yours?” She didn’t want to assume that his blank look meant what she expected.
He looked around again, leaning back so he could see past the elevator and the thick concrete supports.
“Are we somewhere important already?”
She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”
“It’s a parking garage.”
Maybe to a guy who’d lost his memory of the past five years that’s all it was. To her, it had been the first public place where they’d made love. The memory seemed so fresh to her, the daylight shining in from outside dimmed in her mind to the sultry hour past midnight, when they’d returned to the condo after a dinner on the beach. He’d been at the wheel of the ’Vette as they’d cruised over the bridge, trying to keep his eyes on the road while she’d unzipped his pants and stroked him until he was hard as a rock. At the first stoplight, he’d repaid her by slipping his hands beneath her dress and coaxing her to orgasm. Only the cop car idling beside them kept her from screaming out her pleasure and they’d almost gotten a ticket for staying too long in the intersection after the light had turned green.
After they’d arrived in the garage, they’d tried to make it back to either his condo or hers, but pure animal lust had won out. They’d done the deed right up against the concrete pillars. The experience had been forbidden, thrilling. Unforgettable.
And he didn’t remember, darn him.
Sydney surrendered. “You’re right. It’s just a parking garage.” And what they’d done there had just been sex. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she needed to bring him back to a place where they’d shared something more significant. Trouble was, they’d done everything in their power never to share anything more significant than mind-shattering orgasms and a wicked good time.
Well, Sydney had her work cut out for her—first, trying to inspire him to remember, and second, creating new memories to replace the lost ones. Luckily, she looked forward to both tasks.
“I know the new owners of your place. Your sister must have sold the condo furnished because they hadn’t changed much last time I stopped by. If you want to get in, look around, I can give them a call.”
Adam nodded, but his expression was noncommittal. “Sounds like a good plan.”
She unbuckled her seat belt. “Let’s go up to my place, first. I’ll call from there.”
He helped her put the top up on the car, then followed her into the elevator. The condominium complex consisted of four buildings, each with two levels of private assigned parking below two levels of condos. Holding only four condos per floor, the buildings were arranged so they formed an intimate quad around a heavily landscaped courtyard complete with a pool, hot tub, wet bar and cabana. The condominiums looked as expensive and exclusive as they actually were. Sydney had been one of the original owners, and had made a large sum of money from buying several other units when she’d bought hers. With the condo’s desirable reputation jacking up the price, she’d resold them for a tidy profit—enough to completely pay off her mortgage.
Her condo was actually two units, top and bottom floor, connected by the sexy spiral staircase her builder had insisted was frivolous at worst and retro at best. She remembered that Adam, upon his first visit to her place, had complimented her choice. She unlocked the door with her key, then punched in the security code, wondering what he’d say this time. He hung back a few steps and she watched him study every detail as they walked inside—as if the decor might be the ticket to jogging his memory.
She closed the door behind him. The dim sunlight, slowly succumbing to sunset, pressed a lavender hue over her ivory leather couch and shimmery pearl walls. She flipped a light switch, igniting a series of lamps beneath her treasured eclectic collection of art. Two Tarkay original oils on canvas. A Chagall. Several assorted lithographs by currently unknown artists she had high hopes for. And, of course, her posters.
“You’re a big Mae West fan,” he said, slipping by the framed movie advertisement for My Little Chickadee.
“Every woman should be,” she answered. “For that matter, so should every man.”
“Not all men like bad girls.”
She laughed. “Oh, yeah? Name one.”
He chuckled and slung his hands into his pockets. In the shadowy light, she couldn’t tell if he was just being casual and comfortable, or if he had something hard to hide.
“Then you think every woman should be a bad girl like you?”
Sydney crossed her arms loosely, trying to remain nonchalant as he strolled nearer the staircase, which was hard to see without many lights on. “I don’t preach. I don’t recommend my lifestyle to anyone, because, frankly, I don’t give a damn how any other woman lives her life. But I enjoy myself. When I die, I’ll have no regrets.”
Adam nodded, making Sydney wonder what he was thinking. In the past, she wouldn’t have wondered. She would have squelched her curiosity by reminding herself that if he didn’t like the choices she’d made, he knew where the door was. But that was before. Before she’d realized that she’d missed out on a chance to create something meaningful with Adam. Before she’d learned how he could have died on that road outside the complex, the one she’d carefully maneuvered to avoid on the way home tonight, choosing an alternate route to the main entrance that bypassed the main thoroughfare.
Now she wanted him to remember her, not the hit-and-run.
How he judged her could make the difference between reconnecting with him on a deeper level or losing him forever. The truth rankled, but she shrugged it off. Sometimes, reality sucked.
“Does my life philosophy bother you?” she asked.
He thought for a minute, then countered, “Was I a judgmental ass before the accident?”
She laughed. Next to her, Adam had been the premiere purveyor of the live-and-let-live lifestyle. “Not in the least.”
“Then why start now?”
“I’m just wondering if the only reason you’re here is because I’m going to help you find your missing plans.”
Adam crossed the room in quick, purposeful strides. Before she could register the depth of the expression on his face, he entwined her in his arms and swept down, locking his lips with hers. His arms cradled her with such power, she felt her entire body relax, trusting him to keep them both upright while she surrendered to the sheer pleasure of the kiss. Tongues dueled and tasted. Hands roamed. In an instant, the filmy blouse she’d worn over her sexy tank top floated to the floor. He’d unbuttoned the top of her jeans, skimming hot fingers just inside so that her tummy skittered with hot wanting. She explored just as desperately. So much to re-learn. So much to lose. His arms were thick with muscle, his chest tight with need, his sex bulging against the seam of his jeans. When he pulled back and nibbled her neck, precisely on the spot just beneath her earlobe that always drove her insane, she let a flash of hope skitter across her mind.
“Okay, you’re here for the sex, too,” she said, unable to keep the quip inside.
“You did offer,” he answered, his almond eyes teasing, his mouth working its way across her bare shoulder.
“Yes, I did. I most certainly did.”
He ended his path of kisses with an erotic lick across her knuckles. “And I intend to take you up on that offer, and maybe sweeten the pot myself. But first, let’s check out my old condo. When we make love, the only thing I want to be thinking about is you.”
He released her, kissed her one last time on the temple, then strolled over to the large bay window overlooking the pool. Sydney took a few seconds to remind herself where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. Oh, yeah. The phone. Call the neighbors. Quick. And then, judging from Adam’s confident, cocky tone, prepare for the seduction of a lifetime.
NOTHING. Adam walked out of the condominium disappointed, almost forgetting to turn around one last time and thank Sydney’s neighbors for letting them inside. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Shouldn’t have allowed Sydney’s enthusiasm to bubble over into his resigned heart. He wasn’t going to remember the past five years. The best he could do was figure out who now had possession of his architectural plans and then work to restore the wealth that should have been his as a result of his hard work.
But he couldn’t do that tonight, so he was going to concentrate on what he could accomplish—seducing Sydney Colburn.
More and more, the woman fascinated him. Her humor bordered on irreverent, her intelligence skated the line between brilliant and genius. She thought fast and lived faster. Add to that her incredible beauty and inherent sensuality and a man could do no better.
So why hadn’t he captured the lady’s heart before? Why had she walked away when he’d tried to take their relationship beyond the boundaries they’d set up? He wondered if that mystery haunted him more than the identity of the driver who’d crashed into him or the current location of his blueprints.
But tonight the only mystery he had a shot at solving dealt with Sydney. Before they stepped into the elevator to go back up to her condo, he grabbed her hand and tugged her close.
“Let’s go somewhere,” he suggested.
“Where?” she asked, her eyes flashing with interest.
“I don’t know. Somewhere special. Somewhere you’ve never been with any other man but me.”
“That’s a tall order,” she joked, but this time he felt relatively certain she was exaggerating.
“Indulge me.”
She pulled her car keys out of her pocket, detached her condo keys, then tossed him the ring that would start the Corvette. “My pleasure, but I’ll need to run upstairs first. Warm up the engine. I won’t be two minutes.”
She didn’t lie. Though it had felt like an hour, Sydney flew upstairs and then back down in less than one hundred and twenty seconds. She had her purse in one hand and a small cooler in the other.
“Let’s blow this joint,” she instructed, green eyes flashing. She tore her hair out of the ponytail and as they raced out of the garage, the wind swept her curls into a flowing mass of sexiness.
She gave him directions, and in less than ten minutes, they’d apparently arrived. When they approached the back entrance to what appeared to be a country club, she leaned over and flipped off the headlights, then extracted a key card from her purse.
“I take it you’re not a member,” he asked, trying to concentrate on something besides the way she wiggled her backside as she climbed across his lap to reach for the automatic gate.
“Yeah, right. Do I look like a debutante?”
“I don’t know any debutantes.”
She slipped the card into the machine, and after a red light turned green, a buzz alerted him that the gate had slid open.
“Believe me, none of them look like me, talk like me or act like me. I used to date the head groundskeeper.”
He hesitated before easing the Corvette through.
“Then you’ve been here with him?”
Sydney grinned. The fact that he’d exhibited even the least bit of jealousy seemed to please her, but he wished he could restate the question.
“Not the way I’ve been here with you.”
He scowled, so after laughing and insisting he go through the gate before it slid closed, she explained further. “The head groundskeeper is a closet gay. But we work out together at the gym and when he needs a date, he calls me. In return, he gave me a copy of his key card and showed me this entrance.”
“Why?”
“So I could seduce you outdoors.”
“You needed a private country club for that?”
She settled back into her seat, her eyes and smile dancing with that blatant naughtiness she wore so well.
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
After spying her check her watch, Adam followed her directions down a thin path, past a small outbuilding and into a clump of trees. In the distance, a large colonial mansion at least three stories tall, lit by countless lights, loomed on a small, man-made hill. He saw no one milling about the expansive verandah or ornamental garden, but guessed the humid air kept the club members inside where the air-conditioning could protect their hundred-dollar hairdos and even pricier clothes.
Sleek greens and brushed sand traps dotted the pristine landscape. Palm trees lingered on the edges, mixed in with native pines and palmetto. Adam had never been an avid golfer, but he’d learned the game from his onetime mentor, Marcus Malcolm, so he could work the links for business. With a high handicap and little patience for the slow-moving sport, Adam finally convinced Marcus to leave the golf-related schmoozing to his son, Steven, the heir to the Malcolm design firm and a much better golfer. With or without his amnesia, Adam couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a green, and he was certain he’d never snuck onto a green late at night, except maybe once when he was a kid, filching lost balls to sell back to golfers for bubble gum money.
The minute Sydney pointed to where she wanted him to park, a forbidden thrill hit him full force. Sliding the car between two small hills, and with it camouflaged from behind by a clump of bushes, he knew no one could possibly see them.
They’d be in the dark, but out in the open.
Amazing.
When he pulled the emergency brake, she jumped out of the car. She’d already discarded her shoes and wore nothing but the midriff-baring tank top and her jeans, which were unfastened. Tiny brass buttons, now folded down just under her navel, caught a flash of moonlight and winked.
He didn’t need any more invitation than that.
He chased her out onto the lawn, catching her as she spun, bringing her down to the ground with a soft thud, his arms cradling her fall. Laughter peeled against the quiet of the night—his deep, hers light. An invigorating rush coursed through him, compelling him to capture her mouth with his and kiss her long and hard.
Her scent, a romantic mixture that reminded him of sunrise—crisp and cool, softened by the colors of lavender and rose—blended with the fresh scent of the grass into an intoxicating combination. He inhaled as he nibbled her neck, fired by the sound of her laughter, invigorated by the way she moved her body so his sex pressed into the juncture between her thighs.
“God, I want you, Sydney,” he admitted, not knowing when he’d wanted someone more than he did at this moment.
“Then take me, Adam. That’s why we’re here.”
He kissed her thoroughly, his tongue and lips learning her mouth, his hands blazing a trail down her sides, across her back. She was bold and brazen, stopping only once to wiggle out of her white-washed jeans so that she wore only her tank top and purple T-back panties. The tiny straps crisscrossed her hips and thighs, fairly begging for removal with his teeth.
He moved forward, until a thought struck him. Had he done that to her before? Had he taken off her underwear that way, or had the scenario popped into his mind only because it was perfect for the moment?
He pulled back.
“What?” she asked.
“We’ve made love out here before, right?”
She scrambled onto her knees, her eyes filled with contained expectation. “Do you remember?”
“I’m not sure. I have a very strong image of me removing your panties with my teeth, but I don’t know if it was a memory or an impulse.”
She rolled her eyes, then playfully let herself fall to the side, her arms reaching out to him. “Well, damn, Adam, I can’t remember all the little details! You’re going to have to recall something a tad more significant.”
He crawled over to her, like a jaguar on the prowl. “Then I’m going to have to do something more significant.”
“Go right ahead.”
First, he was going to make his fantasy real. Memory or not, he wanted her panties off and he wanted to feel the scrap of fabric between his teeth before he tasted her. He couldn’t help but growl just before he pressed his lips to her instep and then kissed a hot path up her calf, over her knees and across her thigh.
As he neared her panties, her scent intensified—muskier, hotter, wetter. He dipped his nose over the small triangle of material, filling his senses with her until his own jeans cramped around his groin and his shirt grew moist down his back. Reclined on the swell of a small hill, he glanced up to note the soft shadows of bliss playing over her face—eyes half-shut, mouth half-open, nostrils flared and breathing unsteady. She’d fanned her hair behind her, framing her glistening skin with strands of fire. She wore no bra beneath the T-shirt, so her nipples pebbled high and hard. His mouth watered to suckle them, and he would.
Very soon.
First, the panties. The moment he tugged at the scrap with his teeth, she lifted her hips, her knees bent. He dragged the silky material down, baring her sex to him like a present wrapped in satin. He unhooked the panties from her ankle, then tossed them aside, the first layer of clothing soon buried beneath his shirt, his jeans and his briefs. Then, he realized he didn’t have a condom.
He swore. No getting around safe sex with their combined histories.
She leaned back on her elbows, her expression soft with wanting, but amused with that sassiness he’d forever associate with Sydney Colburn. “Check the glove compartment. I’m practically a Boy Scout, I’m so prepared.”
“There’s nothing boyish about you, lady,” he rumbled, then jogged back to the car, hating to lose sight of her for even an instant. But after fumbling with the latch, he tore through the collection of audio tapes, car manuals and fast-food napkins until he found a plastic baggy filled with over a dozen foil packets.
Holding the baggy to the light from the dash, he couldn’t make out which one he wanted. What the hell. For all he knew, they’d need them all. After a quick glance in her trunk netted him a blanket, he closed the car door and shot back to their private little hill.
But Sydney was gone.