The Billionaire’s Forgotten Fiancée

by Nadia Lee

  Shane wasn’t sure if his father meant for him to hear the last comment. He never gave a shit about anything or anybody. It was obvious he hated every minute he had to waste on Shane.

  He lunged to his feet and slammed his fists against her desk so hard it rattled. The camera shook, then toppled over the edge, smashing against the hard floor. The outer casing cracked. Ginger cried out and picked it up, but it was too late. Something inside rattled as she turned it in her hands.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Nobody ignores me. I’m not some accident nobody wants!”

  “I never said you were. For god’s sake!” Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away. “You’re such a jerk, you know that? You think you’re something special because you have money, but you’re an asshat. You wouldn’t like yourself if you could just see what you’re like.”

  “Handsome and rich and got everything in the world?”

  She shoved her camera into her backpack and looped the straps around her shoulders, her motions jerky. She hadn’t even zipped her bag right, and some stuff fell out. Before he could tell her, she spun on her heel and left.

  He clenched his jaw. Maybe he shouldn’t have reacted so violently and damaged her camera. But whatever. She was the one who’d said he wasn’t “worth it.”

  Glancing down at the papers she’d dropped, he realized they were pictures. Jeez. Who the hell printed photos anymore?

  He reached down and picked up the pictures on the floor. As he was about to dump them into the trashcan, he blinked, stopping. He pulled them closer, studying his face.

  His eyes were bright in the photo, but not with smug satisfaction. They were full of anger and derision. His lips were twisted into an ugly, cynical line. Maybe it was because he was having a crappy day when she’d taken the picture. Then he realized that wasn’t the case. The picture had been taken when he’d been hanging out with his friends after school.

  His insides going cold, he flipped to the next one. It was the same. He wasn’t even close to “handsome, rich and got everything in the world.” He looked like an angry, pissed off brat with an attitude problem…just like his oldest brother Dane always said.

  And he hated it. He hated that he was exactly as Dane had described. Entitled. Foolish. Not worth the hassle. His gut twisted, and he curled his nose as bile rose up his throat.

  “Shane?”

  He blinked. Ginger was looking up at him, a frown creasing her forehead. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head. “Hey…you remember the camera I broke?”

  “What camera?”

  “You know, the one in high school.”

  She inhaled sharply. “You remember?”

  “Did I replace it?” He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, suddenly needing the touch. Say yes.

  “Yeah. The next day. Actually you bought me one that was a lot better than the one I had.” A wistful smile ghosted over her lips. “It was…unexpected.”

  “Why? Was I that bad?”

  She laughed softly. “It’s not that. I was pretty abrupt with you when the camera fell on the floor. I mean you nudged it over when you hit my desk, but I shouldn’t have put it so close to the edge either.”

  He didn’t know how she could laugh about that when he felt like a total dickhead for what he’d done. What kind of an idiot had he been? “Did I apologize?”

  “When you gave me the new camera, yeah. You were sort of stiff.” She peered up at him. “So. Your turn. How much do you remember?”

  He shrugged, rolling on the balls of his feet. “Just…that. Nothing much.”

  “I see. Well, still, it’s good that you remember a little bit. Even if it’s unpleasant, your past has made you who you are today.” She put a hand on his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. The camera was old anyway. It was about time I got a new one.”

  He didn’t think so. There hadn’t been any reason for her to buy another. It did something funny to his insides to hear her say things to make him feel better when he didn’t deserve it. And what kind of insensitive clod was he that he hadn’t noticed her sweetness…hadn’t even tried? When he’d seen her at the hotel, he’d thought she was a damn fine woman. He thought she’d look great naked in his bed.

  How shallow he’d been.

  As he gazed into her eyes, he saw her beauty wasn’t just on the surface. She glowed from within her soul.

  And he wanted to hold onto her, be surrounded by her light. He cupped her cheeks. The contact seemed to warm even the coldest corner of his heart. “Ginger…”

  Her eyes drifted shut, the long, dark eyelashes resting on her cheeks like butterflies. He kissed her. She tasted as sweet as the ripest strawberries of the season. He deepened the kiss, flickering his tongue against hers in a sensual invitation to pleasure each other.

  She moaned softly, her body relaxing like heated wax. She pressed into him, and he let her in. Her hands tunneled into his wind-mussed hair and tightened around his scalp.

  Desire surged fast, his cock going rigid. The previous encounter had left him sexually frustrated, and kissing her like this under the sun only intensified his need for her.

  He pulled her closer until she could feel his cock against her. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, how much I want you.”

  Rose colored her cheeks, and she looked away.

  “Don’t. You’re perfect. I wish I could show you what I see when I look at you.”

  “There’s the camera,” she rasped.

  “I can’t capture it.”

  “Sure you can.” She licked the column of his throat. “You’re one of the best photographers I know.”

  He dropped to his knees and buried his face in her navel, his mouth against her hot skin. “It can never properly record the way you radiate with light. Or your gentle soul.” And how much he wanted to possess and protect her. He groaned. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  “Neither do you,” she said shakily. “I know we shouldn’t, but I can’t think straight whenever you’re around.”

  “Don’t pull back.” He tightened his arms around her legs. “If you want me to grovel for the shitty things I said to you in South Africa, I will. If you want me to promise to call you every day, I’ll do that too.”

  “Oh, Shane.” She fell to her knees and looked into his eyes. “I don’t want you to do any of that. The situation’s just—we’re just—too complicated.”

  “Why? We’re engaged. We’re sexually compatible—I don’t have to have sex with you to know that, since I can’t imagine us staying together that long if we weren’t—and we obviously care for each other. You can’t even say that money’s the problem in our relationship because I have more than plenty. What more does a relationship need?” he said.

  There it was—those hints of uncertainty and apprehension crossing her face as fast as lightning before a storm. He wanted to erase them. And he knew the best way to do that.

  He took her mouth, this time with an almost brutal intensity. He wanted her to forget everything and just enjoy herself and know that he’d take care of her. He used his teeth and tongue, nibbling and licking her closed lips and coaxing them for an entrance. His hands roamed over her back and sweetly curved ass and squeezed. She moaned, softening her mouth. He took advantage of the lapse and thrust his tongue inside.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he assaulted her mouth. She kissed him back hotly. She didn’t use just her tongue or lips or teeth. She used her entire body, pressing against him and rocking, her throat vibrating as she moaned her budding pleasure.

  He slipped a hand between their torsos and weighed her plump breast. She had the most gorgeous breasts he’d ever seen—round, soft and incredibly responsive. She trembled as he massaged her breast and played with the nipple, pinching and pulling it. The sundress she wore was thin, but he didn’t want even that between them.

  Before he could mo
ve, she pushed the skinny straps down. His cock twitched at the sight of her naked chest, fully revealed to him. During the storm he hadn’t been able to see her very well, not with the darkness and pelting rain. God, she was absolutely beautiful.

  And she was his.

  He pressed his head in her cleavage and inhaled. She smelled amazing, all orchids and butter cream. She cupped a breast in an offering. He smiled, but didn’t take the nipple into his mouth. He wanted something else instead.

  He ran his callused hands over her breasts. She shivered, her white teeth sinking into her rosy lip. “Lie on your back, Ginger.”

  She obeyed instantly. The bodice was bunched around her waist; the sand under her hot from the sun, but she didn’t complain. Instead she stared up at him with anticipation in her dark eyes.

  He kissed along her torso. Her stomach jittered as his five o’clock shadow scraped the delicate white skin. He was certain she hadn’t put any sun block on her belly, and he didn’t want her to burn. He’d linger later—in the comfort of his bedroom.

  Getting rid of her panties and pushing her skirt aside, he reached down and ran his forefinger along her folds. They were slick, and in the daylight he could see them glisten with her juices. She put a hand over his wrist. “Shane—”

  “Shh…” He blew over her clit and smiled when she bucked against him. His cock was so damn hard he felt like he could use it to crack coconuts, but right now what he wanted was her against his mouth.

  He traced each juicy lip, lapping her up. Groaning, she arched her back. She was dripping with need, and he sucked her clit, devoured her, making sure he got every drop of her sweetness.

  Her cries pierced the air. “Please…please…”

  She was so damn close. He thrust two fingers inside her as he increased the suction over her clit.

  “Oh god, yes…” she panted. He plunged his digits in and out of her almost violently, sensing she wanted something fast and furious. It didn’t take much time. She writhed one last time and screamed out her orgasm.

  Unable to wait any longer, he stripped. His shirt and shorts and underwear landed somewhere on the beach. He didn’t give a damn where.

  Ginger grasped his dick. She could barely wrap her hand around the shaft. Mouth dry, he watched her as she gave him a cocky grin and licked the precum beading at the head.

  Hot damn. He closed his eyes. Her tongue felt incredible. She was a fucking goddess as she swirled her tongue over his cockhead as though it were a lollipop and pulled him into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing.

  His heart accelerated like he was sprinting. She looked so gorgeous on her knees with her lips around his cock. He dug a hand into her hair—her hat was long gone. His pelvis moved on its own volition, fucking her mouth. He could barely think, just feel as a massive wave of searing pleasure gathered itself, ready to barrel into him.

  “Touch yourself. Fondle your tits,” he grated. “Come again as you suck me off.”

  Ginger did exactly as she was told, her hands moving over her gorgeous breasts before one of them disappeared into the dark V between her thighs. Her breathing grew rougher, and he knew she was still primed for another peak.

  Holding back while he was deep in her mouth was damn difficult, but it was worth it. His cock muffled her second scream of pleasure, and that hot little vibration was enough to push him over the edge.

  He pulled out at the last minute and spurted onto her as an orgasm crashed through him. The white seed hit her chest, and the sight of her being marked as his consumed him, filling him with a monstrous satisfaction. She might not be wearing his ring, but she was his. Nobody better come sniffing around her unless they wanted their nose broken.

  His legs felt like overcooked pasta, and he dropped to his knees.

  She looked at him, her lips curved in bemusement. “Well. Now I gotta wash up.”

  “There’s the ocean,” he said lazily, then kissed her deeply. She tasted like her and him. This is how it should be.

  Reluctantly, he used his shirt to wipe her down, then pulled the dress back into place and smoothed the skirt. When she raised an eyebrow, he said, “Sunburn.”

  “Oh.” She flushed. “I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Probably just stunned with post-sex euphoria. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”

  Laughing, she punched him lightly on the arm. “Where did my hat go?”

  “Forget it. I’ll buy you a new one.”

  As they walked back to the house, Shane felt like everything was right with the world for the first time since he’d lost his memory.

  Chapter Seven

  Ginger sighed softly as warm water and suds sluiced down her body, remembering how Shane had come on her. Like he was staking his claim.

  And the crazy thing was, she’d really liked it. Even though she knew better than to give in to their attraction when they still had so many unresolved issues.

  She couldn’t believe she’d succumbed so quickly, but not even a phalanx of elephants would’ve been able to drag her from him. The two of them had always had sizzling chemistry.

  He was going to regain his memory soon enough. She could sense it.

  And then what are you going to do?

  She was convinced the reason he’d left had something to do with her, even though she had no idea what that might be. Not knowing made it so much worse because she couldn’t do anything to fix it.

  Hopefully, he’d choose to talk to her instead of disappearing again. She didn’t know if she’d be able to handle being deserted by him a second time.

  When she went downstairs, there were boxes stacked everywhere. She blinked at the sight. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Packing,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to help me carry them. Peeraya’s going to ship the rest.”

  “All this is yours?”

  “Yup. Stuff I bought while traveling.” He handed the housekeeper a sheet of paper. “Just follow these instructions. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, sir,” she said, then nodded at Ginger. “Hello, madam.”

  Ginger smiled at her, then turned to Shane. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” he said.

  “This is pretty sudden.”

  “Not really. It’s how I’ve been traveling around.” He cupped her face. “I’ve been living someone else’s life for the past year. You were right. My past makes me what I am, and it’s about time I reclaim it.”

  “You’re going to see specialists.”

  “Maybe. I might just remember more when we’re home and surrounded by familiar things and people.”

  “You might not like everything you remember,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  She pulled her lips in. She didn’t want to talk about whatever it was that had made him go to South Africa. “Your parents? You didn’t always get along with them, especially your father.”

  “I had a feeling,” he said with a shrug.

  “What kind of feeling?”

  “Gut. Every time I think about my parents—especially my father—I get a cross between heartburn and a nasty ulcer.”

  “They aren’t that bad.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  She gave him a rueful smile. “No matter what, they’re still your parents.”

  * * *

  “Is that your dad?”

  Shane turned his head to look. A man who bore an obvious resemblance to Shane, only older, stepped out of his car. What the hell was he doing here again?

  As if he’d noticed the stares, he turned. A brief frown crossed his handsome features, then they smoothed into an affable mask. “What are you boys doing out here? It’s a school day, isn’t it?”

  “What are you doing here?” Shane demanded.

  “Just checking up on your progress at school.”

  Shane looked at his friends. “We’re, like, fifteen minutes away from campus.”

  “True enough. I finished talking with you
r teachers and thought I’d stop somewhere”—he gestured at a small eatery on the opposite side of the road—“and grab a bite.”

  Fucking liar. He could never make any time to see Shane, but he’d come all the way out here to check up on his progress? Like that made any sense.

  Bitterness churned in his gut. Shane already knew where he ranked in his father’s priorities—a couple of places below a decent shoeshine.

  Salazar was actually interested in a pretty brunette who lived in the neighborhood. The really shitty thing about it was that the woman was married. The marriage wasn’t on the rocks or anything, from the rumors Shane had heard. She just had an uninspiring husband. But Salazar Pryce didn’t let that kind of detail stand in the way of getting what he wanted.

  Shane would have bet his yearly allowance that the woman was waiting for his father in the stupid little café across the road. They’d pretend to have coffee or some bullshit like that…and then they’d go to a hotel.

  Suddenly angry, he took a step toward his father. “I don’t care who you fuck, but at least consider the location and the audience,” he hissed. “You don’t care who the pussy’s attached to so long as they spread their legs for you.”

  Salazar’s expression didn’t change, but it became tight. “Such language. Is this what my money’s paying for?”

  “You chose the school, not me.”

  Salazar leaned closer until the tip of his nose almost touched Shane’s. “You think girls give a shit about you?” He smiled nastily. “They want you because you’re my son. Because I give you money. You’re nothing without me. Might want to remember that the next time you’re lucky enough to get laid.”

  Shane clenched his shaking hands into fists. How dare he…!

  Salazar stepped back, the affable smile once again smooth and relaxed. “Man, I’d better get going. I’m starving.”

  That bastard. That total bastard.

  Shane blinked away the memory. It had appeared so suddenly, playing in his head like a mini-film. It probably wasn’t something he’d just imagined. It was too vivid and too messed up for that.