His Unforgettable Fiancée

by Teresa Carpenter

  Grace watched in silence as he popped a pain pill with a sip of soda. At least she didn’t gloat. Putting up with stubborn was bad enough.

  “So you like Chinese?”

  “Yeah. This is pretty good.”

  “And spicy. Risky, going with the kung pao chicken.”

  “I can handle it.” He dug in, savoring the heat, the garlic, the nuttiness.

  “How did you know you’d like it?” She wondered.

  He shrugged. “One of those things I know without knowing how.”

  “So the real you is coming through. That has to be good, right?”

  Another shrug. Who knew?

  She cocked her head to the left. “There’s a movie theater. You want to get out of your head? Let’s go see a movie. Killing a couple of hours in a dark cinema should occupy you and still be restful.”

  “Yeah, we could do that.” He stood and gathered their trash. “As long as it’s not some chick flick.”

  “I like a good chick flick, but I was thinking something more shoot-’em-up.”

  “You like action-adventure?”

  “I do. And sci-fi. But not horror.”

  In front of the theater, he surveyed the choices while she did the same.

  They both chose the same one, her voice echoing his by a beat. He met her gaze, both brows lifted.

  She grinned. And led the way inside, denim hips swaying.

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He liked this idea better by the minute.

  * * *

  The mall shops were closed when they got out of the movie. So she took him to Walmart instead. The break seemed to settle him. And he was able to get everything he needed at prices that didn’t make his head hurt, or so he said.

  Afterward he wanted to take her to a nice steak dinner. They compromised on a decent dinner, and then she drove them back to their room, where they both fell asleep watching a Breaking Bad marathon.

  Sunday morning he surprised her by joining her in church. She heard him saying The Lord’s Prayer, so he’d been involved in religion at some point in his life.

  They arrived in San Francisco midafternoon. Grace booked them into another Pinnacle Express, this time two rooms. JD looked out over the city and said it looked familiar. She refrained from asking how.

  Her friend came through with a value for the watch of sixty to ninety thousand, depending on the condition of the watch. Rather than rush out to find a jewelry store, JD suggested another movie, followed by dinner in Chinatown.

  Monday morning she knocked on JD’s door. He let her in. The drapes were open to a view of the bay and a slice of the Golden Gate Bridge. He wore his new jeans and a blue knit shirt that brought out the green of his eyes.

  “How are you doing this morning?”

  He ignored the question. “I told you the city felt familiar. I went downstairs and gathered up some brochures. Nothing stood out to me, except to confirm I know the city. For the last hour I’ve been scouring the San Francisco Chronicle, looking through back articles hoping something would click.” He shook his head, indicating a lack of success. “I must wear glasses. It was hard to focus on the computer.”

  “It’s the concussion.” When he just shook his head, she moved on. “Are you ready to go?” They had a meeting with her friend Doug at the FBI. “We’re a little early, but I don’t know the area.”

  “Sounds good.” He closed up the computer.

  She considered taking a cab, because driving in San Francisco was insane. Parking was worse and required you have an offshore account. But she preferred to have her own vehicle.

  Downstairs JD held the door for her and then walked around to slide in beside her. The roomy Escape felt cramped, with his big body taking up most of the space. His scent filled the air around them. To distract herself from the fact that only inches separated her from him, she watched as he took in the sights of the city.

  “Anything look familiar?” she asked.

  “All of it.” He confirmed. “Just like with the brochures. I know the layout of the town. I can tell you where the theater district is. Where to get great seafood. But I don’t know in what context I know it. Whether I lived here, worked here, traveled here. It’s all a blank.”

  “Don’t force it,” she cautioned him. “The doctor said you should let the knowledge come to you.”

  “I’m trying.” He leaned his head back, closed his eyes.

  She glanced at the GPS and saw they were nearing their destination.

  “Head for the Pinnacle Hotel,” JD said. He opened his eyes and explained, “It’s near Union Station, only a few blocks from Golden Gate Avenue, and there’s a Sullivan’s Jewels in the lobby. I want to see if they can give me a more exact appraisal.”

  “Okay.” Grace checked the Cartier strapped to her wrist and decided they had time. At the hotel she pulled into valet parking, gathered her purse and jacket and exited, handing the attendant her keys before joining JD. He placed his hand on the small of her back and escorted her inside.

  “Good afternoon, sir,” the doorman greeted him. The Pinnacle Hotel was the five-star version of the Pinnacle Express. The liveried doorman held the door for them to enter.

  Inside, a stunning water feature welcomed them. The lobby buzzed with activity as people came and went and stopped to conduct business or simply to chat.

  JD didn’t linger, escorting her directly into Sullivan’s Jewels. The store had a traditional feel. Everything gleamed, from the dark woods and glass display cases, to the gold-and-crystal accessories. And inside the cases: sparkle, sparkle, sparkle.

  “Good afternoon, sir.” A personable young man in his twenties crossed the floor to greet them. “I’m Christopher. How can I help you today?”

  “I’d like to get a watch appraised.” JD held up the watch she’d given back to him on the trip across the lobby.

  “Certainly, sir. May I ask, was there something wrong with the piece?”

  “No. I’m thinking of selling it.”

  “Of course. We can handle that for you.” The young man assured him. “This way, please.” He directed them to a private room furnished with leather chairs and a small table. “Please wait here. Can I get you some refreshments? Water? Coffee?”

  “No, thanks. If we could make this quick, I’d appreciate it.” JD slid into a leather chair. “We have to leave for an appointment in thirty minutes.”

  “Absolutely, sir. I’ll get with the manager and be back in a few minutes.”

  “Well, you can’t fault the service.” Grace sank into her own chair. “He’s eager, but I don’t get a bad vibe off him.”

  “It’s a reputable store. We’ll get a fair appraisal here. Too bad they won’t actually buy it. He didn’t mention proof of purchase, but I don’t see Sullivan’s cutting corners.”

  “Me neither.” She sighed, suffering from diamond envy. “We strolled by some gorgeous pieces.”

  “Huh.” She felt his gaze like a touch as it ran over her. “You don’t strike me as being big on bling.”

  “I’m not usually,” she agreed. “But I don’t generally spend so much time in jewelry stores. All this temptation coming my way, I might become a convert.”

  “If it turns out I’m rich, when this is over you can pick something out and I’ll get it for you as a bonus.”

  “I’m not hinting, JD. You’re already paying me when it’s not necessary. I don’t need a bonus on top of a wage.”

  “A bonus isn’t about need.” Elbow propped on the table, he massaged his temples with one hand. “It’s about appreciation.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I think I’ve been to this hotel before. My head is throbbing and I’ve noticed a pattern. My head hurts more when my mind is struggling to assimilate something it recognizes but can’t place.”

  “Wow, that could be helpful.” And painful, though it made sense in a way. “If you think you’ve been to the hotel, maybe someone at the front desk would remember you.” />
  “Doubtful. Do you know how many people must go through here in a year?”

  “You’re probably right.” But it might be worth a try if time allowed. In an investigation you followed up on every lead. She’d gotten results when the odds were worse. “Why don’t you close your eyes while we wait?”

  “Don’t baby me, Grace.”

  She rolled her eyes. As if that was possible.

  To keep from fussing at him, she texted Doug to let him know she and JD were in the area and would be on time for their appointment. Doug texted back to come on over, he could see them at any time.

  “Doug is ready for us when we finish here,” she passed on to JD. She snapped a picture of his profile and then requested he look at her. Once he complied, she snapped a facial shot and forwarded both to her friend.

  “What are you doing?” JD demanded.

  “I sent your pictures to Doug. Maybe he can get started without us.”

  “Good idea.” The news perked him up. “We’ll give it five more minutes and then leave. We can always come back.”

  Christopher returned a few moments later. “My manager is dealing with a delivery. He won’t be able to examine the watch in the time you have. I can make an appointment for you, or I can give you a receipt and we’ll have the appraisal ready for you when you pick up the watch.”

  JD showed no reaction as he held out his hand for the watch. “We’ll try back after our appointment. I’m not sure how long we’ll be.”

  “Of course. We’re open until six.”

  JD escorted Grace from the store.

  “Why didn’t you leave it? It would only be for a short while. And we have to come back here for the car.”

  “This is all I have in the world.” He handed her the watch. “I prefer to keep it with me.” He made for the front doors. “It would be different if we weren’t about to talk to the FBI. I’m hoping they can give me a name and I can learn about who I am without appearing a sick fool in public.”

  For the love of Pete, save her from the male ego. He didn’t want to be at a disadvantage in front of the sales force. She should have guessed this was about control. Hopefully, this meeting would provide some answers.

  Sighing, she gave in. They could always come back if the FBI failed to produce his identity.

  She tucked her arm through his. “You’re not sick, you’re memory-challenged.”

  He grinned at her, the smile flashing a never before seen dimple. And her heart tilted just a little.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “YOUR NAME IS Jackson Hawke,” Doug Allen announced moments after escorting JD and Grace into an interview room. Of average height and weight, with average features and average brown hair in the expected FBI black suit, Doug waved for them to take seats.

  JD let the name sink in, waited for it to trigger a flood of memories. All it brought was a sledgehammer beating in his head. An acknowledgment, of sorts, of its familiarity.

  “Oh, my God.” Grace breathed.

  He glanced her way to find her staring at him wide-eyed.

  “What?”

  “Jackson Hawke. Oh, my gosh, JD. You’re a billionaire.” Her eyes narrowed as she ran her gaze over him. “You shaved off your goatee. And you’re bigger in person. You’re not missing.” She turned that intense regard to Doug. “He’s not a missing person, or I would have put it together.”

  Billionaire? Goatee? JD ran his fingers over his clean-shaven chin, still reeling from hearing his name. Nothing else seemed to compute.

  “No.” Doug confirmed. His alert gaze, which was anything but average, landed on JD. “There’s no record of a missing-persons report. But he is part of an ongoing investigation in Las Vegas—an assault.”

  She sat up straighter at that news. “That must be when he was stabbed.”

  “That matches the report. I have some of the details here.” Doug pushed a file across the table. “You doing okay, Mr. Hawke?”

  JD clutched for Grace’s hand under cover of the table, relaxed a little when her fingers curled around his. “I’m fine. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “I’m sure it is. You’re an important man, Mr. Hawke—”

  “JD,” he cut in. “Please call me JD.”

  “Of course, JD. I haven’t broadcast this news yet, but the tech that helped with the face recognition probably has. I expect my bosses will appear soon. Let me just say now, the FBI is happy to lend any assistance we can. Are you under a medical doctor’s care?”

  “Better, I’m under Grace’s care.” He didn’t feel like an important man. Didn’t particularly want to deal with the FBI top brass. But he was grateful for their help, so he’d do what he had to.

  “Those are pretty good hands to be in.” Doug joked. “She always had the best scores in first aid.”

  “You did okay.” Grace shot back. The friendship between the two was an easy camaraderie.

  “I was better at putting holes in than plugging them up.”

  “Doug is a crack shot,” Grace explained. She squeezed JD’s hand, a sign her chitchat was intended to give him time to assimilate all he’d learned. At least that’s how he took it. “The military tried to recruit him for sniper duty.”

  “Yeah, not my thing.” Doug tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m not afraid to use my weapon, but being a sniper is too premeditated for my taste. Your game ‘Rogue Target’ is pretty intense.”

  “My game?”

  “You were right, JD,” Grace answered. “You are a geek. A supergeek. You create digital video games. ‘Pinnacle’ was your first, some argue your best. It launched you into the big leagues against Sony and Nintendo. ‘Unleashed’ is currently the number one game in the world, and number two is ‘Rogue Target,’ which came out last Christmas.”

  “You own Pinnacle Enterprises,” Doug informed him. “An entertainment conglomerate. As well as Pinnacle Games, you own TV and radio stations, Pinnacle Comics, Pinnacle Hotels and the Strikers football team in Las Vegas. Your net worth is in excess of ten billion.”

  “That’s right.” Grace tapped a finger off her forehead. “Pinnacle Enterprises. That’s why the hotel looked so familiar today. You own it. And the others we’ve been staying in.”

  “You have a penthouse suite at the Pinnacle here in town. As well as in Las Vegas and New York. From what I’ve found, you have no residences outside the hotels. Your official address is your corporate address in Las Vegas.”

  He had no home. For some reason that rang true.

  A knock sounded at the door and it opened to admit a tall man, rounding around the middle. He had sharp brown eyes and steel-gray hair.

  “Doug,” he said, his voice as deep as he was tall. “I hear we have a celebrity in the house today.”

  “Yes, sir. This is Jackson Hawke and my friend Grace Delaney. Mr. Hawke is experiencing a memory lapse. We were able to assist him by providing his identity. JD, Grace, this is Ken Case, Special Agent in Charge.”

  “I’m glad we could help. We’ve met a time or two at charity events around town.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you.”

  “Not a problem.” Ken drew out a chair and sat. “I’ll be truthful. They were brief introductions. You probably wouldn’t recall in any case. How did you come to lose your memory?”

  Grace gave a brief rundown of events, managing to get the facts across without making him sound like a felon or a fool. Quite a talent she had there.

  “The doctor is hopeful I’ll get my memory back within a couple of weeks.” JD added in the hopes of minimizing how lame he felt. He was a billionaire, and right this minute he couldn’t hold two thoughts together at the same time.

  “With the new information from the Woodpark sheriff’s office yesterday, my theory is that after the altercation at the Red Wolf Tavern, the man who accosted JD followed him, ran him off the road and robbed him.”

  Ken nodded, his eyes speculative as they assessed Grace. “It’s a likely scenario. Nice to meet you, Grace. Doug
has mentioned you in passing. How did the election go?”

  “I lost.” Blunt and to the point, Grace didn’t sugarcoat her response.

  “Too bad. I have to think it’s their loss.” Ken appeared impressed with Grace, too. “Has Doug tried to recruit you to the wonderful world of the FBI?”

  “He has.” A tinge of red tinted Grace’s cheeks. She wasn’t immune to the attention of the head man. “And I’ll admit I’ve been tempted. But I’ve lived my entire life moving at the whim of the navy, first as a military brat and then as an enlisted. For once I’d like to be able to choose where I live and what I do.”

  “Hard to argue with that.” He stood. “If you change your mind, let me know. We’ll talk.”

  “Thank you, I will.”

  “In the meantime she works for me.” JD stood, as well. His head hurt and he was ready to go. “Can I take this report with me?”

  “Of course.” Doug moved to hold the door.

  “Good luck.” Ken offered his hand. “I hope you get your memory back soon. I want you to know you can count on the discretion of this office.” After shaking hands, he took off.

  With the exit in sight, JD subtly ushered Grace in that direction. Doug walked with them. JD longed to escape, but he owed the man. “Thank you for your help. It’s a huge relief to have a name to claim.”

  They stepped into the hall.

  “You’re seriously going to pass up a career in the FBI because you’re tired of traveling?” Doug nudged Grace in the shoulder. “You were going to do your twenty.”

  “I know. It’s different now I’m out. It’s not even the traveling. There’s still a large part of the world I want to see. But I want my own place. I want a sense of permanence.”

  “I know your dad left you some money. Buy a house somewhere, make it your base and come to work for the FBI. You’ll have the continuity you want and a great career, as well.”

  She rolled her eyes at Doug’s insistence. “I’ll think about it. But don’t get your hopes up. I really want a home.”

  “Sherry gives me that, wherever I am. She was hoping to get together, do some catching up.”