UNFORGETTABLE

by Rhonda Nelson

  She'd slid her hand over his abdomen and kissed his nape…

  And then George had knocked on the door, cited an emergency that required Nash's immediate attention, and she'd been left with an evil brew of lust, need and desire roiling in her belly, and a virulent case of unsatisfied longing.

  For reasons that escaped her, the sensation had seemed entirely too familiar.

  Which didn't make any sense, because she and Nash had always had a healthy sex life. Voracious, really. The timing thus far had simply been off, but she hoped that would soon be rectified. They'd catch this thief and carve a little time out of their busy schedules for each other, Zoe decided.

  In fact, she wouldn't mind staying on here, at Oak Crest. There was something peaceful and homey, heart-warming about the place. She could breathe here, fill her lungs to capacity and exhale her worries away. It was a bizarre sort of connection, but a comforting one.

  She liked it here.

  "What do you think?" Melanie asked. "Are you ready?"

  Zoe sighed, resolutely stiffened her spine. It was time to kick ass and take names. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this thing."

  She'd rather floss with barbed wire than fail, and she and Nash obviously weren't going to have any time together until she caught this thieving SOB.

  Crooks were not permitted to interfere with her sex life, Zoe thought irritably. It put her in a bad mood.

  * * *

  8

  « ^ »

  "Psst. Lex," George hissed, frantically trying to covertly snag his attention.

  Lex shot him an impatient glance and nodded toward Faith, who had just came downstairs and was presently working the contingent of amateur sleuths into a frenzy of frantic delight.

  Though Trudy had cautioned against mentioning Faith's name, or bringing up any of the books, the fans gathered here were obviously overjoyed and generally beside themselves with happiness over meeting Faith. Wild applause had met her entrance. Since then, they'd followed her around, hung on her every word and jockeyed for her attention as though she were visiting royalty among a crowd of peasants.

  His lips twisted with wry humor. Little did they know the object of their adoration was trying to discern which one of them was a thief.

  She'd dressed for the part of Zoe in a slinky sequined blouse, tight red skirt and black thigh-high boots. Bright red lipstick painted that lush mouth and she'd applied her eye makeup with a dramatic hand.

  Lex was just like any red-blooded American male—show him a little flesh and a pair of high heels and he'd become instantly entranced. His mind would go blank and he'd drool like a brainless pup. But to be perfectly honest, though she looked too hot for words, he preferred the softer look she'd had when she arrived.

  "Lex," George whispered again, motioning wildly.

  Annoyed, Lex cast another look at Faith, then reluctantly joined his uncle in the hall. "What? I need to be in there. I—"

  "We've got a problem," George interrupted. His gravelly voice rang with impatience. "The Millers are here."

  Lex felt his eyes widen. "What?"

  "The Millers are here. They don't have a reservation, but they insist that they made one. I told them I'd have to come and check with you."

  Lex passed a hand over his face and swore hotly. The Millers were regulars, a couple of aging bird watchers who usually lodged with him three to four times a year, at least once a season. They were fantastic guests and had sent him too much business over the years for him to turn them away.

  Still, having them here this weekend posed a problem. He'd avoided taking any more reservations because he knew it would take his entire staff to see to the needs of Faith's party. Furthermore, his guests typically came to the mountains to enjoy a little R and R. Staying at a lodge where an invitation-only party was being held couldn't possibly be fun for other patrons. He imagined they'd find it annoying.

  While he couldn't afford to turn away business, he'd decided to err on the side of caution and keep this weekend strictly about Faith and her group. In fact, he could have sworn that he'd told the Millers this already. It seemed as if they'd called… Lex shook his head. The Millers were good people. If they said they'd had a reservation, then he'd simply made an error.

  "What do you want me to tell them?" George asked.

  "I…" Lex shoved a hand through his hair, looked back over his shoulder at Faith. Indecision tore at him. "They can stay, but I'll have to talk to them."

  Lex swiftly located the Millers and, after they'd exchanged pleasantries, gave them the abbreviated version of present circumstances. He left out the amnesia, but stuck with the plan Trudy had used.

  Margie Miller inhaled sharply. "Faith Bonner is here?" she gasped, clasping a hand to her ample chest. "Here? In this very lodge?"

  Oh, hell, Lex thought. This couldn't be good.

  "Yes, she—"

  James Miller huffed an exasperated breath and rolled his eyes at his wife. "Margie, didn't you heed a word of what the man just said? You can't call her that—you have to call her Zoe—and you can't mention those damned books. Honestly," he harrumphed.

  Margie rummaged around in her purse, then pulled out Murder and Mayhem. "You mean like this one?"

  James's eyes widened and he gasped. "For the love of God, woman, put that away!" He wrestled the book back into her bag.

  "Oh, wow, I just can't believe it!" Margie's plump body vibrated with excitement. "Her here," she said meaningfully. "It's a dream come true. I entered the To Catch a Thief contest, but didn't win." Her face fell at the reminder, then brightened once more. "Nevertheless, this is just simply marvelous. It must be marvelous for you, too, Lex." She winced, patted his arm with concern. "Are things any better for you on the financial front?" she asked gently.

  Lex nodded. Keeping his financial straits from occasional guests didn't pose a problem, but the Millers were frequent lodgers and had had the dubious pleasure of being here every time something had gone wrong this year. Hiding problems from them had been impossible, and he appreciated their concern.

  "They're getting better, especially with the Bonner party here," Lex finally told them. "It could turn into a yearly thing, which would be wonderful."

  The couple shared a look, then each gave him a warm smile. "Indeed, it would. I hope everything runs smoothly for you, you poor dear. You've had such a bad year." She tsked under her breath. "A lesser man would have sold out."

  Lex shook his head. "I don't know about that, but I'm not selling." And he wouldn't. No matter what he had to do, he wouldn't sell out.

  "Well, we're just thrilled to be here," Margie tittered. "Will we be in our usual room?"

  He wondered how thrilled they would be when he told them the rest. He rubbed the back of his neck and summoned a smile. "Well, see, here's the thing. If you decide to stay, Faith will have to add you to her suspect list and she'll likely search your room."

  Margie and James's polite expressions froze. "What?" Margie asked.

  "In order to keep with the ruse of the game, to make it believable for everyone, she'll have to be suspicious of you, as well." Lex had no idea where this bullshit was coming from, but amazingly, he seemed to be getting better at spinning lies off the top of his head.

  Margie and James shared an uncomfortable look. "Oh. Well…"

  "I'm really sorry," Lex told them. "But I couldn't let you stay without telling you. Will it be a problem?"

  They continued to stare at one another, then Margie finally managed a smile and said, "Oh, it'll be all right. It's not like she's going to find any stolen jewels in our room," she joked. James's grin was strained and he laughed heartily, as though his wife had just delivered the best one-liner he'd ever heard.

  Lex continued to smile and looked from one to the other. Now that was bizarre. Granted, he'd never suspected that Faith would find any stolen jewels in their room, but now he couldn't help but wonder just exactly what she would find there. He shook the thought off, though, and returned to the issue
at hand.

  "Okay," he told them. "I have to get back to the party. George will get you checked in, all right?"

  At their nods, Lex pivoted and made his way back into the great room. His entrance coincided with the end of Zoe's welcome speech, and he swore. Dammit, he'd needed to hear that. What if she'd shared some sort of insight he should be privy to? Granted, they'd gone over everything yesterday during their "mission briefing." Nevertheless, he felt it was in his best interests to shadow her every move. He didn't want to let her out of his sight … which was why it was very disconcerting that he'd already lost her.

  Lex scowled, did a quick scan of the room, but couldn't locate her among the throng. And he should have been able to because she stuck out like an iris in a field of dandelions. Dammit. Where the hell could she have—

  His eyes widened and he grunted as he was suddenly yanked backward and pinned against the wall. The startled breath he might have exhaled was forced back into his mouth as Faith fastened her lips hungrily over his. Electricity crackled over every nerve ending, starting at his toes and sweeping up his body until his scalp prickled and he shivered. Then the current turned to gooseflesh and swiftly retraced its path. That lush mouth settled deliciously over his for the long, slow haul and everything but her lips faded into insignificance. That curious sensation of becoming suddenly deaf happened once more. Sound vanished and a heightened sense of awareness took its place.

  The taste of her exploded on his tongue, sweet and wicked, and, though he knew he should figure out some way to break the kiss without giving away the game, knew that when she got her memory back she'd think he was the worst sort of lecher, Lex simply didn't have the wherewithal to do it.

  She'd twined her arms about his neck, slid her hands into his hair, and her small, curvy body was melted into his as though the heat of the kiss had softened every bone and muscle inside her.

  While every other part of him had gone boneless as well, there was one part that had grown instantly hard. His dick strained behind his zipper as though she were a witch and it one of her devoted familiars. His hands had been fisted at his sides, and he lifted them now, then hesitated as lust and nobility duked it out in the ring of his weakening conscience.

  Her pearled nipples raked his chest, delivering nobility a knockout punch.

  Lex growled low in his throat, lifted his hands to cup her face, then slid them into her hair and angled her head to deepen the kiss. She responded instantly and her purr of pleasure resonated in his mouth.

  He found himself at once enflamed and content. He could have kissed her forever, could have fed at her mouth and never required another morsel of food. Hunger of a different sort coiled in every muscle, locked him in a state of mindless arousal. Her tongue curled over his, once, twice, then suckled at his bottom lip. His knees weakened. Though he wanted to devour her, he let his hands drift slowly over her slim back, shaped her tiny waist, then cupped her rump and lifted her more closely to him.

  She squirmed in his arms, desperately trying to get closer, when they couldn't have gotten a pebble between them with a jackhammer.

  From somewhere in the sluggish recesses of his mind, Lex heard a throat clear dramatically, then a series of gasps and knowing chuckles.

  Evidently, Faith heard it, too, because she slid slowly down and reluctantly withdrew her mouth from his. She looked up and her gaze tangled with his. A curious mix of wonder and confusion cluttered those melted-caramel orbs and she touched her fingertips to her lips as though uncertain whether to believe what had just happened between them.

  In the next instant, though, she blinked the sentiment away—so quickly, in fact, he was strongly inclined to believe he'd imagined it—then laid her head upon his chest and smiled at the crowd gathered around them. "Everyone … meet Nash Austin."

  More whooping and hollering ensued at this theatrical announcement, but Lex couldn't appreciate it at all because his stomach had just turned to lead.

  Nash Austin.

  Not him. A bitter laugh stung the back of his throat, and with effort, he swallowed it. God, he was an idiot.

  George announced dinner and in a matter of seconds the throng had dispersed and adjourned to the dining room. Lex lagged behind, trying to tell himself that it was unreasonable for him to be irritated, or angry—but not hurt, dammit—just annoyed that, while the kiss had been all too real for him, for Faith it had merely been one of many she'd shared with her fictitious lover from her fantasy.

  He'd discovered that Trudy's description of Nash and Zoe's sexcapades had been dead-on. To his absolute astonishment, he'd fought a hard-on every time the two of them made love in the books.

  He could see Faith in the role and cast himself as her lover, and suddenly, it was his mouth suckling at her breast, his body pumping furiously in and out of her. She was murmuring those suggestive phrases to him, taking him in her mouth, delivering him to gut-wrenching, back-arching, silent-screaming, earth-shattering climaxes. Him—not Nash.

  "Earth to Lex?" Trudy waved her hand inches from his face. "Are you all right?"

  He nodded jerkily. "Yeah. Sure," he lied. Hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. This entire weekend had been one big lie. What was another?

  Trudy studied him for a moment, and something in that too perceptive gaze made him want to fidget. A faint smile finally curled her lips. "You're a good guy, you know that, Lex?" she said softly. "You're a real hero. Don't ever doubt it."

  "Thanks," he muttered, startled at the compliment.

  She darted a quick glance over her shoulder, then lowered her voice. "Look, I thought I'd better give you a heads-up. Faith is going to slip away during dinner and search a couple of rooms. You might want to keep a close eye on her."

  His head jerked up. Shit. And that concludes the pity party, Lex thought with a grim smile as he hurried into the dining room. He hoped to God he wasn't too late.

  Zoe slipped the master key Nash had given her back into her skirt pocket, then swiftly retraced her steps down the hall. Well, that had been a monumental waste of time. Neither of her prime suspects had been in possession of anything suspicious. Zoe had checked their cell phones for recent incoming calls and numbers dialed, she'd thumbed through their wallets and checked for alternate IDs, had sifted through drawers and toiletries, and had even checked to make sure that nothing had been hidden in the soles of their shoes.

  She'd learned the flight attendant had abysmal taste and a yeast infection, and that the engineer suffered from Tourette's syndrome. He'd had a how-to-cope book hidden away in the back pocket of his luggage. Nothing useful, dammit.

  A noise at the end of the hall snagged her attention and she instinctively ducked into an alcove.

  "You're sure it's hidden well?" a man asked. "You're sure they won't find it? Any of it?"

  Zoe's senses went on red alert. She dared to peek around the corner and saw an older couple, mid-sixties maybe, waddling down the hall. Both wore their graying hair in a short, no-fuss style; both had on walking shorts and orthopedic shoes. They could have been her grandparents … if she'd had any. Did she have any? Zoe suddenly wondered, jarred by the strange thought. How weird. She had absolutely no recollection of any family. None. She winced as a sharp pain suddenly throbbed in her temple. How—

  "I'm sure, James," the woman scolded. "Stop worrying. We've gotten really good at hiding our stash. No one is going to find it." A surprisingly girlish giggle sounded. "I'm the only one who wants in your pants, you old coot. As for the other, they won't know what they've found, even if they manage to locate it."

  Bingo, Zoe thought, everything else forgotten. She smiled, waited patiently until she was sure they'd made it downstairs, then quickly let herself into the room they'd exited.

  A quick survey showed that the couple were neat and orderly. Matching I Love Bird Watching caps were hung on either side of the dresser mirror. Socks were folded and tucked away in drawers, toiletries marched across the bathroom vanity in a regimental line, and each hanger in th
e closest had been spaced precisely two fingers from its neighbor. Luggage had been emptied and stowed, and pill keepers and glasses sat on each of the nightstands flanking the bed. The TV remote control had been carefully placed on the woman's side, next to her pink bifocals. Two guesses as to who wore the pants in this family, Zoe thought with a wry smile. Speaking of pants…

  She quickly patted down each pair of the man's trousers and hit pay dirt with the last pair—multi-pocketed carpenter pants—in the very back of the closet. Her spirits sank when her search didn't turn up the missing diamonds, but what she did find shocked the living crap out of her.

  Fleece-lined handcuffs, a cat-o'-nine-tails whip, a spiked dog collar with chain, a bondage rope and a flogger. She'd found every kind of condom imaginable tucked away in their binoculars case—ribbed, studded rough riders, glow in the dark.

  After only the smallest hesitation, Zoe pocketed a few of the plainer ones. She didn't remember if she'd packed any, and she was in too sad a shape to hear that Nash hadn't. If they didn't make love tonight, she'd lose her mind.

  Especially after that mind-blowing kiss this evening. Zoe's lips tingled as she remembered, and a slow, steady throb kindled below her navel. This morning when they'd been interrupted, she'd wanted to weep. She was absolutely desperate for him, had to have him immediately.

  The insistence that it had to be now couldn't be reasoned with, bargained with.

  Zoe had wanted Nash before, had felt as if she would burn up from the inside out if they didn't make love, but nothing in her past experience could compare to the furious need she presently endured. There was an urgency she couldn't account for, a clamorous, all-consuming compulsion that dogged her every step, shadowed her every thought. Made her crazy.

  That's why she'd dragged him out of the great room, shoved him against the wall and launched herself at his mouth. She'd been desperate, yes, but a part of her had wanted to punish him for not being as desperate as she was. He wanted her, she could tell. Those ice-blue eyes heated with smoky arousal every time he looked at her. His gaze frequently dropped to her mouth, lingered, then trailed over her breasts and belly like a silent caress, and she never walked away without feeling that hot stare on her ass.