Chasing Memories: The Forevermore Series Book 2 Page 5

  Her breaths came in short, sharp gasps. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. “When?”

  “The night of your accident. I pulled you from the car before it rolled down the ravine and exploded.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lucas held the cup holder containing two coffees in his right hand, and a bag of pastries in his left. He checked his watch again as the elevator made its way to the second floor of the Acquati hotel. Ten o’clock. India was over an hour late for their meeting. Where the hell was she?

  She’d run out on him yesterday after he’d dropped his bombshell about rescuing her the night of the accident, and he hadn’t seen or heard from her since.

  His numerous phone calls went unanswered. He’d stayed at the hotel late into the evening waiting for her to return. She didn’t, and sometime around three a.m., he’d gone back to his condo, the one he’d purchased back when the hotel renovations began, and stalked around the house for the remainder of the night, kicking himself for blurting out the words.

  Between then and now, he’d come to the conclusion her amnesia was all too real. He’d been on the fence after she’d admitted remembering him. The scene could have been a scripted performance, but her reaction to his revelation of pulling her from the car convinced him she hadn’t been acting at all.

  She couldn’t have known what he’d been about to say. Heck, he hadn’t known either. Telling her was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Genuine confusion blazed in her sapphire blue eyes followed by panic as his words sank in, and she’d fled.

  The bell dinged, signaling the car had reached its destination. The doors slid open. Lucas stepped out and strode down the long corridor to the room at the end. India’s suite. He paused a moment, listened and heard nothing. Was she inside? Had she even returned to the hotel?

  Damn. He should have gone after her. She’d been in no state to roam around a strange city on her own.

  Time to see what’s what. He lifted his hand and knocked. No answer. He waited a moment and then tried again. Still nothing. Hell.

  Lucas turned to leave. A sound came from inside the room and he stopped short. He rapped on the door more urgently.

  “No. No!” a muffled voice cried.

  “India? Are you in there?”

  No response, then a blood-curdling scream a beat later.

  “India!” Heart pounding, Lucas pulled a keycard from his pocket and slid it through the reader. The door opened a fraction, and stopped. Damn. She’d engaged the chain bolt. He pounded on the door again. “Are you okay, India? Open the door. It’s Lucas.”

  When she didn’t appear, he put down the coffee and pastry on the floor and raced back to the adjoining room. He opened it, ran to the connecting door, and unlocked it using the master. His gaze darted around India’s empty suite.

  “No, no,” a voice groaned.

  Bedroom. He found her thrashing on the bed. Grabbing her arm, he shook her. “Wake up, India. Wake up.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “What are you doing here?”

  He released his death grip. “Are you okay? You scared the hell out of me.”

  “How did you get in? I locked the door.”

  “Master key. It overrides the lock.”

  Eyes wide with fear, she pulled the sheet tight against her.

  “Hey, whoa.” Lucas stood, backed away from her and held up both hands. “I’m not here to hurt you.” His reassurance did little to ease her panic.

  With jerky movements, she thrust back the sheets and bolted out of bed. Lucas stared—no, gawked. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, dressed in that damned oversized T-shirt she’d worn yesterday morning when he’d come to her room, and good God, no bra. Shit.

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  Focus, damn it. “You were supposed to meet me down in the lobby at nine. It’s after ten now. Given how you ran out on me yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I still had an interior designer, or you’d decided to quit and go back to San Francisco, so I came up here to check. I heard screams. I banged on the door, but you didn’t answer, and you know the rest. God, India.” His fingers wouldn’t stop shaking as he dragged them through his hair. “You sounded terrified. I thought someone had—” He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t.

  India sat down on the edge of the bed and trembled. “I’m sorry. I, you…” She sucked in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly. “I must have been dreaming.”

  His eyes widened. “A dream?” Or had she been remembering something?

  “I, ah…” Her shoulders slumped. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Whatever it was, her terror had been real. Lucas strode to the bed and sat beside her again. He clasped her hand, her warm skin soft against his callused roughness. “Tell me what you remember.”

  Lucas moved close to her, close enough for their knees to touch, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him, smell whatever cologne he wore. The heady scent of soap and spice filled her. A powerful combination for someone just waking.

  “India?”

  She stared at him, then squeezed his hand tighter, needing the contact as the elusive, sinister images whispered through her mind again. “Nothing concrete. Only a jumble of shapes and sounds, disjointed images.”

  Had her subconscious been trying to remember, or was the nightmare her mind’s way of dealing with Lucas’s revelations? She wasn’t sure. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “No worries. I’m glad you’re okay.” He slung his free arm around her and gave an affectionate squeeze.

  India closed her eyes, leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. He jerked away. Her eyes snapped open, and heat invaded every inch of her body. Good grief, what had she been doing? They didn’t have a personal relationship. He’d offered a measure of comfort, but she’d added a layer of intimacy he hadn’t intended. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  He’d lied to her, too. By omission, and it pissed her off. A lot. Enough to go straight to the airport yesterday afternoon. She’d been about to purchase a one-way ticket back to San Francisco and get away from Lucas Morgan, and all his half-truths, once and for all. Then, her cell rang. Victor’s number flashed across the screen, and reality came crashing down on her like a meteor plunging through the earth’s atmosphere, scorching everything in its path.

  If she returned now, Victor would continue to pester her. No, his constant attention crossed the line from annoying to downright harassment. The media would continue to circle her, like a buzzard ready to pounce on its prey.

  Going home was the absolute last thing she wanted, and she needed this job. Had to complete the renovations on time and under budget to receive a glowing reference, in order to expand her business into the commercial design field.

  The truth was she’d been embarrassed more than angry at Lucas for not telling her they’d crossed paths before. Yes, they’d had a couple of dates, and shared some kisses. No big deal, at least not to him, anyway. He’d gotten over it. Gotten over her. Why couldn’t she do the same?

  And he did save her life. It blew her away that he’d endangered himself to help her. Most men would not have gone out of their way.

  Lucas’s actions spoke of bravery and courage, and well, a generally good person deep down inside, and maybe, just maybe, he could tell her what happened the night of the accident. “You have an interior designer, but I want some answers.”

  He stiffened. “If you’re referring to when I pulled you from the car, I won’t be much help. I arrived at the scene after the crash and didn’t see what caused the CTS to go over the edge.”

  Damn. So much for him providing any useful information that might spark her memory. Lucas dropped his tall, lanky frame down into the armchair across from her. An emotion flickered in his eyes. Sadness maybe, or grief? He glanced away, then his steady gaze settled on her once more and she wondered if she’d imagined the fleeting sensation. “How is it you arrived when you did?” While the accident hadn’t occurred in a remote area, one wouldn’t travel the road without a reason. What twist of fate put them in the same place and at the same time? Coincidence?

  His eyes flashed again and he stayed silent for long moments, then he spoke in a soft, quiet voice.

  “I had dinner plans. At a restaurant not far from where it happened.”

  His words made sense so why did it seem as if the admission was torn from the depths of his soul?

  “Why I happened along when I did? I was running late.”

  “Oh.”

  “I called 911. Then heard a loud groan.” His short clipped sentences sounded as if he was reliving the scene. “I went to investigate, found you inside and got you out. The EMTs arrived a few minutes later and they took over. That’s all I know.”

  She nodded. Her cell buzzed. Grabbing it from the nightstand, she glanced at the screen. Victor. For the tenth time in less than two days. Shit. Enough was enough. Grabbing the phone from the nightstand, she answered. “Please, stop phoning me.” India lifted her thumb to cut the connection.

  “Wait! Don’t hang up, baby, please. I’ve been worried sick. Where are you?”

  She exhaled a sharp breath. “I’m fine. I appreciate the concern, but I want you to leave me alone.”

  “Tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

  What the hell was his problem? “I said no. This has to stop once and for all. I won’t take any more of your calls.” She hung up before Victor said more.

  Lucas sent her a speculative glance. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, fine. Sorry for the interruption.” A thought occurred to her. Maybe he could help her after all. “Di
d we ever see each other after the night we had dinner at your hotel in San Francisco? I mean other than when you rescued me.” Which she didn’t remember.

  “No. You were upset with me for hitting your brother. Why?”

  Right. Her shoulders sagged. She and Victor could have made up. Like he told her. He’d explained what happened, and the rational part of her mind agreed. So, why did her gut roil every time she considered his version of events? Were her old fears and ingrained distrust of men affecting her ability to see the truth? She didn’t know what to believe. Doesn’t matter. Even if they’d gotten back together for a short time it was over now. “Forget I asked.”

  He nodded.

  Minutes passed, but Lucas didn’t speak and made no move to rise from the chair. The silence stretched on. When she couldn’t take it any longer, India stood. “I’ll go get ready, and I’m sorry I missed our meeting.” She’d returned to the hotel late and had tossed and turned for what remained of the night, finally drifting off just before dawn. “I slept through my alarm. I’ll meet you down in your office in twenty minutes.”

  Lucas rose, took a few steps, then turned back to face her. He grinned and her insides turned to mush. Oh yes, his smile would definitely be her downfall.

  “I brought coffee and pastries. I’ll leave them on the table in the main part of the suite.”

  He’d brought her breakfast? Again? A rush of warmth flooded through her. A girl could get used to such kindness and consideration. She could get used to it. Used to him. No, no, no. The last thing she wanted or needed was another man in her life, even one as sweet, and kind, and thoughtful and sexy as Lucas Morgan.

  Nope, not gonna happen.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucas sat behind the big desk in his office staring at a file but not really seeing the words on the page. His mind kept drifting back to the events of the morning. Hearing India’s screams, seeing her abject terror. Shit. It was like getting sucker punched in the gut. Totally unexpected, it took his breath away and left him on edge, waiting for the next blow to come.

  It happened right after he wrapped his arm around her and gave a friendly squeeze. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it. It hadn’t been a conscious decision on his part. One minute he’d been sitting there and the next his arm draped around her. His hand cupped warm, soft, supple skin. A hint of whatever perfume she’d worn the day before had drifted past his nostrils, and hell, if that part of his anatomy he didn’t use to think didn’t go rock hard the instant he made contact.

  But, what she’d done next twisted his gut into knots. She laid her head on his shoulder. A simple gesture, probably a normal response, but something happened to him. His insides had… Well, he wasn’t sure what they’d done, but the urge to scoop her into his arms and hold her tight nearly overwhelmed him.

  He’d panicked. Hell yes. He didn’t get emotionally involved, and to have those sensations suddenly swirling around inside him, worse, wanting to act on them… Damn right, he’d freaked. He’d jerked away from her, needing to put as much space as humanly possible between them. Would have bolted for the door, too, if she hadn’t shocked the hell out of him by saying she planned to stay on as his interior designer.

  Her staying had come with a price. Blow number three came when he’d recounted the events leading up to the accident. Shit. He’d gotten the grief under control. Could say Grams’s name and remember her fondly without the knife-twisting pain in his stomach, but as he spoke, a pressure built inside him. Strong, with the intensity of a tornado, it threatened to obliterate everything it touched and drive him to the edge of sanity. Even now, the remnants of the storm still coursed through his blood.

  His cell rang and brought Lucas back to the present. He glanced at the caller ID. Amanda. Reaching for the phone, he connected the call. “Hello.”

  “Oh, Lucas, thank goodness you answered. Why didn’t you tell me you’d gone to Miami?”

  “I wasn’t aware I had to.”

  “It would have been nice to know, especially with everything going on with settling Grams’s estate. I’ve been calling around looking for you for the last twenty minutes.”

  Lucas let out a harsh breath. Amanda was right. It wasn’t fair to leave and expect her to handle everything. Evelyn named him executor of her estate. “I’m sorry, but why didn’t you call my cell straight off?”

  “I don’t know. This whole situation has me flustered.”

  “What situation?”

  “It’s why I’ve been trying to reach you.”

  “You’ve got me now. Tell me what’s wrong? You sound upset.”

  “You’d be upset, too, if a strange man showed up in your office and said you had one week to vacate the premises.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.” Lucas rubbed at his temples, trying to stop the pounding that started in his head. “Calm down and tell me exactly what happened.”

  Amanda let out a cry of frustration. “A man, one I don’t know and have never heard of, came to Grams’s office first thing this morning. He told me he—his company actually—is the new owner of the Young building.”

  New owner? Lucas sat up straighter. “That’s impossible.”

  “I thought as much, too, but according to the paperwork he showed me, the brownstone now belongs to a company named Tabbat and Associates. The deal went through on the day Grams died.”

  Maybe this was why she’d wanted to have dinner with him? She hadn’t given a reason, and he’d assumed she’d wanted to catch up.

  Amanda gasped. “Wait. You didn’t know either?”

  “No. I had no idea.”

  “Oh my gosh, Lucas. Why would she keep the sale a secret? She never kept secrets from us before. Heck, why would she want to get rid of the building? I can’t even imagine a reason.”

  Neither could he. The property housed Evelyn’s real estate business. Where would she have gone if she’d sold it? “I can’t tell you why she decided to sell, or why this person is coming forward now. It’s been almost three weeks since Grams passed.”

  “Calvin—he’s the new owner, or the man who owns Tabbat and Associates—said Grams leased the building back for one month. The thirty days is up at the end of next week and he wants me and the rest of the agency staff to vacate the premises.”

  “Relax, Amanda. He can’t just kick you out. He’s got to give you notice.”

  “He did. I mean he gave Grams written notice. It was part of the paperwork he showed me. I don’t understand any of this. None of it makes any sense. Why didn’t she tell us?”

  He didn’t know, but he’d sure as hell find out. “Do you have this man’s full name and contact information?”

  “Yes. His name is Calvin Tabbat, and you can reach him at…” she rattled off the number.

  Lucas wrote it down on a notepad and repeated it.

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “Okay. Fax me the documents he showed you and I’ll call Richard Davis and have him look into it for us. As her attorney, I assume he’d have handled the closing. He should know what’s going on.”

  Amanda sighed. “I don’t have the paperwork. I didn’t think to ask for a copy.”

  Damn it. Not having those records made things more difficult. Richard could have taken one look at them and told him whether everything was in order or not. “Fine. Richard can request duplicates.”

  “Good, but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “I’ll have Brett fly back to San Francisco and help you pack up the rest of the office. The accountants already have the financial information they need to review before we can dissolve Grams’s corporation.” And they could verify the money transaction associated with the sale of her building. “Unless you or Aunt Susan have changed your mind and want to keep the business open?”

  “No. Mom’s not interested. She’s decided to retire now that Grams is gone.” Amanda’s breath hitched. “Neither have I. I like my marketing job, and I need to get back to it as soon as possible. My boss has been very accommodating, all things considered, and I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity.”