by Lauren Canan
With one hand he removed the silver comb that was holding her hair back, letting it fall around her shoulders. When she turned back to him, she shook her head and her hair fanned out, just covering her breasts.
“There is only one thing I’m starving for tonight.”
“And what would that be?”
“You.” He dropped his pants, took off his shirt and led her to the bathroom. “Can I interest you in joining me?”
Victoria grinned. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? Maybe yes?”
“Yes.”
His lips met hers, and the kiss was deep and hungry. She could never get enough of the taste of him, of how his lips were so soft yet firm. He had his nightly stubble, which made him even sexier.
Suddenly she was in his arms, and they were standing under the shower. Without breaking their kiss, his tongue going deeper into her mouth, Wade reached down to her hip and slowly slid the silken panties down her legs.
Stepping out of her shoes, she grabbed the scented soap, worked it into suds and began washing his broad chest, down over the six-pack abs and lower to his erection. This time it was Wade’s turn as she knelt before him. After rinsing off the soap, she slid her lips over his engorged penis, clutching its length with her hand.
“Victoria,” he moaned.
“I want to touch you,” she said, backing away momentarily. “Tell me how to do it better.”
His hands cupped the back of her head, gently guiding her back to his length. “You’re doing just fine.” He inhaled a ragged breath. “Oh, God, Victoria!”
For a few minutes she enjoyed the feel and taste of him. Her hand slid up and down the velvety skin of his shaft while her mouth and tongue licked and teased the sensitive tip.
“Victoria, that’s enough,” he said in a rough voice. He lifted her to her feet. “If you continue, this will be over far too soon.”
He turned her around and, after lathering her hair, proceeded to wash her breasts, then run his hands down over her waist and belly. He palmed her mound before spreading her folds, making her weak with joy. She lost all the strength in her legs yet, needing more of what he was giving, managed to stay on her feet. He reached out and gripped her arms to steady her, then turned her toward him. Grasping her hips, he lifted her up and onto his erection. Pausing to line up with her core, he pushed inside. Her head lay back against the shower wall, so engaged in what he was doing she couldn’t think of anything but Wade. He placed his open palm against her neck, his thumb under her jaw, and he began to move. His movements became faster and faster until, with a cry, Victoria fell apart and Wade followed, calling out her name.
She had a few seconds to catch her breath before he covered her with a warmed towel, scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom. After drying them both, he threw back the covers and laid her down.
He opened his lips to hers, and her arms went around his neck. He moved from her lips to her neck, taking small nips and bestowing kisses down to her breasts. Where Wade touched, her body came alive. With his hands he kneaded the firm skin of her breasts, taking the swollen tips into his mouth, sucking hard, first one, then the other.
Victoria arched her back in response.
“Wade,” she whimpered.
“What, sweetheart?” he said. “Tell me what you need, Victoria.”
As an answer, she reached down and found his swollen shaft. The tip had a droplet of moisture, and she took pleasure in rubbing it over his erection before guiding him toward her opening.
He smiled in the darkness. “Not yet, sweetheart.” He began to kiss his way farther down the feminine curves of her body.
Taking his time, he continued to trail kisses down over her stomach and on to that special place between her legs. Pushing her legs wide apart, he dived in, tasting of her essence, using his tongue to drive her wild. Victoria sucked the air deep into her lungs as she was consumed with sensation. A pressure began to build within her. For a moment the world stopped turning and everything went still. Then she felt completely out of control as electric currents shot down her spine in a pulse-pounding climax. Wade stayed with her until she quieted, then pushed off the bed, quickly slid a condom into place and returned. She was exhausted, but his mouth and hands transformed fatigue into need. Soon she was ready for him again. He slid into her, filling her.
He began to move, this time taking it slow, loving her in the only way he knew how. With each stroke, the intensity grew.
“Are you up for trying something new?” he asked against her ear, his deep voice causing chills to run across her overheated skin.
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly. With Wade, she’d try anything.
He pulled out and rolled her onto her stomach. Grasping her hips, he pulled her up and toward him. Holding her hips, he gently worked his swollen shaft into her from the back. She grabbed the silken sheets with her hands.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
Slowly he began to move. Victoria couldn’t hold back the moan of delight. His hand came between them, and he gently massaged the intensely sensitive nub between her folds. Wade was a master at sex, raw sex. Between his thrusts and what his hand was doing, in seconds she cried out, her inner core tightening against him in climax. That was all it took to push him over the edge. Wade ensured her climax went on and on, milking it to the very end, pushing inside her over and over again until finally he collapsed to her side.
He brushed her long hair away from her face. “Now, what were you planning for dinner?” he asked, breathing hard.
She smiled. “I think we just had dessert.”
“No, Victoria. That was only the first course.”
* * *
He felt her kiss his sweaty chest and neck. The heat they had created felt like a vapor, covering them both in the warm aftermath of sex.
He couldn’t believe how much she had come to mean to him. How much he wanted her memory to return so that they could have a full, rich relationship. It bothered him how heavily the amnesia weighed on her. Her apprehension about attending the ball was only one of the ways it played out.
He gently rolled her onto her side so he could spoon her to sleep, with one arm tucked under her head and the other around her side and under her breasts. His erection was already coming back to life against her bottom. She smelled of patchouli and spices from the soap and a delicious scent that was all her own.
After the gala was over and behind them, he wanted to give her a wedding, the wedding of her dreams. Let her go as big or small as she wanted. And a honeymoon; wherever on this earth she wanted to go, he would take her.
How this remarkable romance had come to pass, he didn’t quite know. It was definitely against the odds that she would wake up from an accident and be someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Because of her sincerity and gentle nature, her love of adventure and her ability to tug at his heart, he was quite sure he was falling in love with Victoria, and this time around it was for real.
Twelve
Victoria sleepily turned over, smiling as she heard Wade’s snoring. She loved to lie awake and listen to him as he slept, to feel the warmth of his body and kiss him when he didn’t know she was doing it. And she couldn’t help but notice that the beautiful diamond on her left hand glittered even in the subdued lighting of the room.
She glanced at the clock; it was just past midnight. The thought of some milk and a snack suddenly stirred her appetite. Grinning, she slipped into her nightgown and robe and left their bedroom, descending the stairs. Soon she was standing in the immense kitchen. Before she could open the refrigerator, she heard a sound at the side entrance. She turned in time to see someone push open the door and step inside. As soon as she approached the doorway, she spotted a woman turned away from her, shaking out an umbrella from the light mist that was falling outside.
A twinge of fear raced
down her spine. “Uh...hello? How can I help you?”
The woman slowly turned to face her.
And all the breath left Victoria’s lungs as she looked into her own face.
Who was this woman and what did she want? Before Victoria could ask, she felt a searing pain in her head.
“I see you’ve been having quite the time in my absence,” the woman said. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Victoria from head to foot. “Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I...don’t understand. I don’t... Who are you?” The white walls and alabaster floor began to tilt. She felt a severe headache coming on like she hadn’t experienced in months; the pounding in her temples was excruciating.
“You were supposed to be out of here by now,” the woman raged, stepping still closer to Victoria. “Instead, you convince my husband to take you on a damn joyride. How nice for you. But it’s over. It’s done. I want you out of my house. Now.”
“Your house?” She raised a hand to her throbbing head. Visions began to whirl in her mind. Random pictures of her art studio. Of Murphy, her rescue dog. And of this woman threatening to blackmail her if she didn’t play along with her scheme.
“Don’t even go there, you little bitch. Why wouldn’t you answer my calls?” She was screaming now, becoming more enraged by the second. “Just what in hell did you think you were going to accomplish? Oh...maybe you thought Wade would fall in love and forgive our little game plan.” She snorted in disgust. “Sorry to break the news, honey, but Wade Masters will never love anything or anyone. He’s a cold, calculating bastard. But that’s my problem, not yours. Where is he, by the way?”
“He’s...upstairs.” In the bed where we just made love.
“Here?” she screeched. “Wade is here? You’ve got to get out. You must leave immediately. My car is still outside. Take it, and get out of here before he comes downstairs. I’ll meet you at the studio tomorrow. Go!”
Victoria was in serious pain. She couldn’t stop the memories from slamming into her mind. Absently, she reached for the top of the cabinet and held on as the room continued to spin.
“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you understand what I just said?” The woman walked over to where Victoria stood clutching the cabinet. “Leave now. Get out!”
“What in the hell is going on?” Wade stepped into the room.
It took the woman almost a full minute to regain her composure. “Why don’t you ask her,” she snarled. “I’ve been on a short vacation, and this woman apparently decided to take my place while I was gone.”
“That’s not true.” Her mind was whirling as the memories came flooding back. She remembered. She remembered everything.
Laurel. Her name was Laurel. Not Victoria.
Victoria Masters had come into her art studio in Waxahachie and bought a painting. She had introduced herself as Laurel’s aunt. The resemblance was uncanny.
Over a cup of coffee that day, Victoria had explained that, decades ago, her much older sister had landed on tough times and had a child in poverty and died giving birth. Victoria had recently found a small box of old pictures at her mother’s house and asked who they were photos of. One in particular was of a newborn baby. Her mother had finally admitted the child was Victoria’s niece. Laurel was that child. Hence the family resemblance—they were practically twins.
Laurel had been raised in a series of foster homes, so this seemed nothing short of a miracle. She didn’t know she had any family let alone an aunt. Yet Victoria had tracked her down. To have a real family was more than she’d ever dreamed of. Laurel was delighted to meet Victoria. She could barely sleep that night in the hopes of seeing her again.
Victoria had come back two days later, this time saying she needed a huge favor. She needed to leave the country for a few months and offered Laurel a large sum of money to take her place during that time. To stay in her home and pretend to be Victoria. She assured her that her husband was in Europe, and no one would ever find out. With the right hairstyle and makeup, no one would question who Laurel really was.
Laurel couldn’t imagine pretending to be someone else. Trying to fool anyone like that would be ridiculous, and immoral. Laurel had refused. She wouldn’t know how to be another person. But Victoria would not accept her answer. She had been prepared for Laurel to decline before she walked in the door.
Victoria had pushed back, demanding Laurel do as she wanted. But Laurel again turned her down, refusing the money. That had been when Victoria turned from nice to vicious, threatening her, saying she would ruin her in the art world if she didn’t agree and assured her she had the clout to do so.
Art was all Laurel had. It had been her dream most of her life. If she lost that...she hated to think what she would do or where she would go. The art community was close-knit. Especially among those commanding top prices and whose paintings were world-renowned. She knew she had what it took to make her childhood dream come true and was beginning to show here and there in galleries. And now this person threatened to ruin it all if Laurel didn’t pretend to be her for three months. Victoria had thrown out several names of the more prestigious art dealers in the area, claiming to know each personally. Victoria was a very good client and they would have no trouble turning away a wannabe if she asked. Laurel had felt her dreams begin to fade. This was surreal.
Victoria had assured her she was married to a billionaire who stayed out of the country 90 percent of the time. Laurel would live in his mansion and basically do as she wanted for those three months. Shopping sprees, museums—she could even build her own temporary art studio and paint to her heart’s content. “Do it,” she had insisted. “What do you have to lose except your livelihood? It’s three short months.”
Laurel had asked, “Why? What’s the reason you need me to do this? What’s so important?”
Victoria had snarled at her. “It’s none of your damn business. Just do as you’re told. I assure you the less you know, the better.”
“Is it because you’re pregnant?” Laurel had quietly asked. Great pains had been taken to conceal Victoria’s condition, but her efforts were not good enough. She looked to be about six or seven months along.
“That’s none of your business!” she’d retorted. “Now, take this key and write down the passwords. A car is waiting to take you to the house.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
Laurel had had no choice but to agree, although how she was going to manage to carry out the ridiculous scheme, she didn’t know. She had worked too long and too hard, kept her dream alive through too much to take a chance that this woman could bring it all to a screeching halt. If that happened, she would have nothing.
She had called her best friend, Beth Hamilton, and told her she’d been invited to stay at a friend’s house for a few months, promising she would be in touch. Victoria had arranged for a limo to pick her up and Laurel had left the studio in Victoria’s chauffeur-driven Lexus, keys and pass codes in hand, when an eighteen-wheeler ran a red light and plowed into them. By the time she reached the hospital, the real Victoria was on her way to Paris.
Now Victoria was back and telling lies, blaming all of this on Laurel. Wade looked beside himself, staring at the two nearly identical women in the same room. “Will one of you tell me what in the hell is going on?”
“She’s an intruder. Can’t you see what has happened?” Victoria snipped. “I told you, I’ve been away. I returned home this evening and found this woman in my house.”
He glared at Victoria, then at Laurel until she wanted to curl up and die.
“Wade, it isn’t what it looks like,” Laurel began to explain. Her head pounded as she reeled with all of the memories suddenly released in her mind. “She approached me and asked if I would pose as her while she was out of the country.”
His eyes shot fire. “You agreed to that?”
Tears welled in Victoria’s eyes. “Not at first. But eventually, yes,” she whispered. “I did, but it wasn’t like she’s making it sound.”
“What in the hell is your name, anyway?” he demanded.
“Laurel. Laurel Dawson.”
“You’re a very good actress, Laurel Dawson. I assume the amnesia was all a ruse as well?”
“No, Wade...”
“It doesn’t matter now, darling. I’m back. Just let it go,” Victoria stated.
Wade glared at the other woman. “Where have you been for all these months, Victoria?”
She breezed over to Wade. “I’ve been in Paris. Remember, I told you. We were going to meet last week at the Café Le Bruin. But you never showed up.”
“Why fly all the way to Paris when I thought it was you here with me?” Obviously Wade hadn’t gone to meet Victoria there, since he thought she was at home, recovering from her accident. And in his bed.
“Victoria came to my studio,” Laurel began, knowing Wade was listening but doubting every word. “She said she was my aunt and wanted to take advantage of our resemblance and asked me to take her place. I refused.”
“Right,” Victoria interjected. “We can see how well that went. What a lie. Honestly, Wade, I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about. And while our appearance might be similar, I certainly don’t have a niece my own age. You know Mother and Father. Do you really think that’s possible?”
“You were pregnant,” Laurel stated. “You went to Paris to have your baby.”
That got Wade’s attention. He directed his hard gaze back at Victoria, and now Victoria was seething. She began screaming and cursing, going so far as to approach Laurel with her hand raised as though to slap her. Wade intervened, and the two began a heated battle, one Laurel wanted to neither partake in nor listen to.
“I want both of you out of this house! Now!”
The tears streamed down her cheeks as Laurel backed from the room and ran up the stairs to change her clothes.
She closed the bedroom door behind her and fell onto a chair. It was all back. The accident. The memories of Victoria approaching her in the studio. The threats. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly button her blouse.
