You Must Remember This

by Clara Wimberly

  Hagan dropped to one knee, his mouth leaving a fiery trail along her rib cage and down her stomach.

  “So beautiful…” he murmured against her skin. “So sweet.”

  “Oh…Hagan…” she whispered.

  Without thinking Sarah dropped to her knees, too. Her fingers raked down his naked chest to the front of his jeans. She felt his quick intake of breath and his eyes opened wide as he stared into her face.

  She felt the heat of him, the hardness.

  She was still on her knees when he slowly stood up and pushed the jeans off his body. She leaned back, the palms of her hands on the floor behind her, as she let her eyes take in every inch of him. From his muscular legs all the way up his strong, hard body.

  When he reached one hand down, she took it, pulling herself up against him and reaching out for his mouth at the same time. When he kissed her eyes and her mouth, she thought she might actually faint from the heat and long- ing that had built up inside her.

  They fell together onto the bed, neither of them willing to wait any longer. She heard his breath quicken as he took her, felt the muscles of his legs hard against hers.

  Sarah cried out, her back arching and her hands going up to grasp his shoulders. Her body’s reaction was imme- diate, the convulsions ripping through her again and again.

  She could hardly believe it and she made a quiet mur- mur of disbelief that was almost an apology. She was too needy…too hot.

  “No, baby,” Hagan said fiercely. “It’s good…won- derful.” His mouth was hungry and sweet, as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

  Her response threatened to rob him of all resolve and strength. The pleasure of her body was almost more than he could handle.

  There were brief flashes in his mind. Visions of other soft arms reaching for him…other lips parted, different eyes filled with desire. And yet they were nameless vi- sions. Dreams without end or meaning.

  Had any woman ever been as sweet? As intoxicating as this one? Was it because he couldn’t remember that made this seem so special? So good?

  They were right together. Hot and quick and exactly right. As he made love to her, she whispered his name over and over, her little cries of pleasure seeming to come up from her very soul.

  Nothing…no one was ever like this before. He knew it in the deepest recesses of his heart, whether his memory followed it or not. Nothing.

  “Sweet…Sarah,” he whispered, feeling the sensations ripping his body.

  Sarah held him close, reveling in the feel of him, de- lighting in his loss of control. His response made him seem more real and more vulnerable than she ever could have imagined.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Oh…yes.”

  Afterward Hagan lay holding her, trying to breathe, trying to reconcile what had just happened with who and what he was. When he rolled away, he put his arm be- neath her and looked into her face.

  She was smiling, but there were tears sparkling in her dark eyelashes.

  Hagan frowned and reached out to brush them away.

  “What?” he whispered. “Did I hurt you? Was I—?”

  “No,” she said, pulling his hand away and kissing his fingers. “No, you didn’t hurt me. You were wonder- ful…unbelievable.”

  “Then what is it?” He moved down beside her, holding her close as his hand trailed down her arm.

  Sarah shrugged her shoulder and hid her face partially against his chest. The reaction was shy and sweet and it caused Hagan to stare at her oddly.

  “This might seem like an odd thing to say, but I’m just so thankful,” she whispered. “I feel alive. For the first time in over a year, I feel alive again.”

  Hagan reached down and touched his lips softly to hers. When she turned on her back he pulled the sheet over them, then turned off the light and closed his eyes. He was spent…as weak as a kitten.

  But he felt alive, too. And he didn’t have to remember anything to know that sex had never been like this for him before. As he fell asleep, he realized he didn’t want to re- member other times…other women. Not now…maybe not ever. He wanted to pretend that Sarah was his first lover. Because she was the kind of woman every man dreamed of for that first sexual experience—someone good and sweet and completely giving. Yet a woman who was as sexy and sensuous as she was virtuous.

  The sound of thunder woke both of them a couple of hours later. Sarah stirred in his arms, then sighed and snuggled against him. Hagan smiled into the darkness as he listened to the wind in the trees and heard the distant thunder moving nearer.

  He thought she had gone back to sleep, but when he kissed her cheek, she turned slightly, letting her lips meet his.

  When they made love this time, it was slower and more tender. The urgency was still as great, but the fire that had passed between them for days now was banked and quiet. Waiting to be fueled.

  Outside the rain came, beating against the house, blow- ing against the windows and encasing them in a warm, cozy cocoon.

  Later when Sarah lay in his arms, she was fully awake. She didn’t want to sleep. She didn’t want to waste one minute of their time together.

  “I can’t believe this has happened,” she said quietly, pressing her lips against his chest.

  “I didn’t intend for it to,” he said.

  “I know. Neither did I,” she murmured.

  “It’s that damn cat’s fault,” he teased.

  Sarah sighed. “Oh, Lord…I was so afraid when we heard the noise. Afraid something would happen to you and I’d never—”

  “Shh. Nothing happened. We’re safe now. I should probably thank old Tom in the morning.”

  Hagan pulled away and looked down into her face. A small night-light burned in the room and he could barely make out her features.

  “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” he teased. “Dancing around this for days…a man who can’t remember his past and-”

  “And a woman who would like to forget hers.”

  “You wouldn’t really,” he said, tracing a finger down her cheek.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked.

  There had been times this past year when Sarah thought she couldn’t cry anymore. And times when she thought she’d never be able to stop crying. Yet despite her pain, she was still here, still trying to make it through each day.

  “You don’t seem like the kind of person to run away from anything,” he said.

  “I’ve been managing to run for a year now,” she said, her voice quiet and reflective. She hadn’t told him about the baby. Somehow she couldn’t find the words. And now that she felt closer to him, she was afraid his kindness and sympathy when he knew, would be more than she could handle.

  He felt the delicate bones in her shoulders as she moved restlessly, then sat up in bed. He couldn’t resist reaching to touch her breasts, or letting his hand trail down to her stomach.

  Sarah felt the catch in her chest. Felt the warmth from his hand spreading through her entire body.

  She was falling in love with him. With this mysterious loner who had admitted that he couldn’t settle down any- where. Did she really think that a sophisticated man like Hagan Cantrell, with his five-hundred-dollar suits and Italian shoes could ever be happy living on a farm, with a woman like her?

  Had she made the biggest mistake of her life tonight?

  She wanted him. Physically, she told herself. But she also found herself longing to be close to him emotionally and she thought that was what she had missed most this past year. That feeling of bonding between a man and woman when they become intimate. And even more when they became friends.

  And now what? Would he still leave in three days and never feel the need to look back? Would she be able to let him go without drowning again in that dark hole of de- spair?

  Sarah needed something that would last. While Hagan wanted…what?

  “Come here,” he said, pulling her down beside him. “Talk to me,” he whispered against her hair. “Tell me what happened before you came here to
forget. Tell me everything. I want to hear.”

  “Hagan…” she protested. It was almost as if he had read her mind. Did he really want to know? Or was he only being kind?

  “Tell me,” he said, holding her tightly against him.

  “I…I don’t know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning. When you .were a little girl. When you met Joe. Did you have a big church wedding? Was everyone in town there?”

  Sarah laughed quietly, the memories coming to her.at his urging.

  “Practically,” she said. Haltingly, at first, she began to talk about her childhood. About the good times.

  Hagan closed his eyes, wanting to feel those good im- ages. Wanting to believe that there were memories and happy lives somewhere still worth holding on to. Hoping that something Sarah said would trigger a similar re- sponse in him. And yet knowing in his heart that there were no good memories in his childhood, no matter how hard he wished for them.

  He was acutely aware of the softness of her body in his arms, the way her breasts felt against him. That enticing rose scent still lingered in his nostrils and he could almost taste her lips.

  He grew so quiet that Sarah stopped, glancing at his closed eyes and placing her hand on his chest.

  “Are you asleep?” she murmured.

  “Don’t stop,” he said, still not opening his eyes. “I’m not asleep.”

  Sarah smiled and snuggled against him again. It didn’t seem odd telling him about Joe. Talking about him and their life made her feel good. For the first time in months, she actually could remember their life together with a smile and with sweet nostalgia.

  When Sarah woke up the next morning, still wrapped in Hagan’s arms, she thought both of them must have fallen asleep in the middle of her remembrances. She couldn’t recall where she’d stopped and she didn’t remember going to sleep.

  She smiled and reached out to touch his chin, letting her fingers move upward to his mouth. He had just opened his eyes when they heard the knock at the front door.

  “Oh, my Lord,” she whispered.

  Before she had time to protest, Hagan was out of bed, hopping about on one foot as he tried to push his leg into the crumpled jeans that had been discarded on the floor.

  “Stay here,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep.

  She pulled the sheet up over her breasts, watching him as he buttoned the jeans, then grabbed his gun from a dresser and stuck it in the waistband at the small of his back.

  “Don’t open the door,” she said. “Until you—”

  Hagan grinned wryly at her and she clamped her teeth together, feeling foolish and helpless. Of course he wouldn’t just open the door to anyone. He was a trained agent, for heaven’s sake.

  Yet seconds later that was exactly what he did. She couldn’t believe it when she heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

  She stiffened in bed, holding the sheets tightly against her naked body as her eyes stared widely toward the open doorway.

  Hagan appeared in the doorway, gazing at her almost apologetically.

  “It’s Cord,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Oh, no.”

  “It’s all right,” he said. “Give me a minute. I’ll put the coffee on while you get dressed.”

  “But…he…he knows,” she whispered. Her eyes moved, over Hagan’s bare chest and wrinkled jeans. He looked rumpled and his eyes were still sleep-filled.

  “Oh, yeah,” Hagan answered dryly. “It didn’t take him long to figure it out.”

  Chapter 12

  “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” Cord asked. He stood in the kitchen, watching Hagan spoon coffee into the coffeemaker. “I always knew you didn’t have much sense about women, but this isn’t just any woman.”

  Hagan slammed the coffee down on the counter and turned around, his eyes blazing.

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” he said. “I know what kind of woman Sarah is. I certainly know more about her than you do.”

  “Yeah, that’s obvious.”

  “Just stay out of it.”

  “Oh, stay out of it?” Cord sneered. “Do you have any idea how she got that scar?”

  “Of course I know.” Hagan said defensively. “Do you think I wouldn’t ask…or that I wouldn’t care? Not that it has anything to do with—”

  “I’ve been checking around. And I heard enough to know that the car wreck that gave her the scar also took her husband’s life. And I know that his death shattered her so badly that she’s given up a nursing career to hide away out here in the sticks.”

  “Yeah, I know that.”

  “Then where in hell are your brains?” Cord snapped. His gaze moved over Hagan’s bare chest and down to the front of his jeans. “Oh, don’t tell me. I guess that’s one thing amnesia hasn’t changed.”

  “You know, I’m getting a little sick of your conde- scending attitude, Jamison,” Hagan said.

  “Well, then we’re even ‘cause I’m getting a little sick of your attitude toward women.”

  “That sounds like Georgia talking to me.” Hagan sneered.

  “Oh, so you don’t remember me but you remember my wife?”

  “Yeah, I remember Georgia. What man wouldn’t re- member Georgia? And I’ve remembered enough about you, pal, to know you weren’t exactly saintly, either, where women were concerned, before Georgia came back into your life.”

  Sarah opened the door of her bedroom, peeking to- ward the men in the kitchen. Cord and Hagan became si- lent when she hurried across the hall to the bathroom without glancing at either of them.

  “Do you think she heard us?” Cord asked.

  “I hope not,” Hagan said, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. “She’s embarrassed enough by having you find us in this…situation. I don’t want her hurt, Cord.”

  “No?” Cord’s dark brows lifted. “Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you hopped into bed with her.”

  “Dammit…” Hagan took a step toward Cord, his fists clenched as he took a deep breath of air.

  The bathroom door opened and Sarah peeked out.

  “Will you two please stop it?” she said. “You sound like two little boys arguing over a game of marbles. I’m a grown woman, perfectly capable of making my own deci- sions and my own mistakes, thank you,” she said, scowl- ing directly at Cord.

  She slammed the door and left the two men staring blankly at it.

  “Well, I guess that settles that,” Hagan murmured with a hint of self-satisfaction..

  “Hell, no, it doesn’t settle anything,” Cord said, keep- ing his voice lower this time. “This is only going to get more and more complicated, Hagan. It isn’t going to get any better.”

  “Don’t lecture me. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Do you?”

  Hagan sighed heavily as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

  “Look, this isn’t something we planned. It’s not like I’ve been plotting night and day to get her into bed.” He glanced across at Cord. “It just happened.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

  Hagan stared hard at Cord, forcing him to meet his gaze. Finally Cord shook his head as a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  “This is different,” Hagan said quietly.

  “How would you know?” Cord, scoffed. “You can’t even remember.”

  “I just know it—all right?” he snapped. “Besides, I’m remembering a little more every day. Faces at first, then names. I remember Tracy.”

  “Oh…Tracy?” Cord’s brows were lifted and he nod- ded. “Now there is a woman worth remembering, as I re- call. And the only woman you ever had a halfway normal relationship with, if I’m not mistaken. What ever hap- pened to her, anyway?”

  “That I’m afraid I don’t remember,” Hagan said. Sud- denly he laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you and I always spat like this?”

&nbs
p; Cord chuckled, too. “Yeah, pretty much. Mostly when we first met and found out we’d be working together. I was a country boy straight out of the marines and you were a wiseass street kid from Atlanta. We didn’t exactly have a lot in common.”

  “Probably made a pretty good mix, though.”

  “Yeah, I guess it did,” Cord agreed. “Must have… we’re still kickin’ after ten years. Until you went and got yourself shot.”

  Hagan’s eyes grew more serious.

  “You still don’t remember?” Cord asked.

  “No…not that part. Not much about the agency, ei- ther…or you, for that matter. Oddly I remember Geor- gia and your wedding.”

  “That’s because it’s nonthreatening,” Cord said.

  Hagan’s brows lifted in a questioning look.

  “I spoke to Dr. Rennig…our staff psychologist…”

  “Oh,” Hagan said, nodding. “And what else did Dr. Rennig have to say about amnesia?” Hagan glanced to- ward the bathroom door. “When I begin to remember, will I still know about this…about being here?”

  “Sure you will,” Cord said. He watched the expression on Hagan’s face, noting with surprise his unusual reflec- tion of concern.

  Hagan took a long, deep breath of air and turned to pour a cup of coffee.

  “That’s good,” he murmured. “Because if getting my memory back means I would forget this, then—”

  Cord studied his partner’s profile as he reached to pour himself a cup of coffee, too.

  “Forget Sarah, you mean?” he said.

  “I don’t want to forget being here, or being with her,” Hagan said. “Because memories are probably all I’ll be able to take away from this place.”

  Sarah opened the bathroom door. She had noticed ear- lier that the sound of Cord’s and Hagan’s voices had quietened and she hadn’t been able to make out what they were saying. But with the door open she heard Hagan’s last sentence and for a moment she wanted to cry.

  Nothing had changed for him. He was still going away and last night hadn’t meant the same to him as it had to her.

  She gritted her teeth and took a deep, shuddering breath.