Chasing Memories: The Forevermore Series, Book 2 (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Bright lights flashed behind her, piercing the darkness. They blinded her for a moment. India’s heart hammered hard as if she’d run a mile in ten seconds flat. Blinking furiously, she tried to readjust her vision as they traveled down the slick roadway. Outside, the rain beat down, and a heavy San Francisco fog enveloped them.

Lights grew brighter. “Great. Just great,” she murmured. The last thing they needed tonight was some asshole who couldn’t tell the difference between fog lights and high beams following too close behind. Lord, her nerves were already stretched wire thin. If the guy behind them didn’t slow the hell down, they’d snap.

“He’s going to kill us both if he doesn’t back off. These roads aren’t built for speed on a night like this.”

India trembled. “Don’t say that.”

The car jerked right, and she gasped. “No, we’re going the wrong way.”

They slowed at the curve. The other car sped up. He was about to hit them. “Oh my God,” she screamed.

India’s eyes snapped open. Her heart thudded. Blood roared in her ears. She gulped in deep breaths, trying to get herself under control.

She peered around the room trying to get her bearings. Tall chest of cherry wood drawers, matching ladies’ bureau, massive oval mirror. Lucas’s guest bedroom. How long had she slept? She glanced over at the bedside clock. Seven a.m. Good grief, almost twelve hours.

“You okay?”

India jerked her head toward the deep, baritone rumble. Lucas stood, poised in the open doorway in a pair of old, faded blue jeans slung low on his hips. And nothing else
. Lord, have mercy.
She stared at him—no, ogled would be a better description for what she lay there doing, because, yes, her mouth gaped open. She drank in those hard, brawny shoulders. Big, strong biceps. Solid, massive pecs. Washboard abs.
Damn.
He was magnificent as all get out with his brooding expression and tousled hair. Not to mention all his gorgeous tanned skin on display. She wanted to touch every damned inch of his luscious body. No man had a right to look as good as he did, especially this early in the morning.

“India?”

Get a grip, woman!
“Yes, I’m fine.” She levered up on her elbows. At least she tried to, but every muscle in her body hurt.

“Let me help you.” Lucas strode over to the bed.

He sat close to her, close enough his breath stroked over her skin like a soft caress.
Oh my
. His hands brushed her sides gently. The slightest contact sent her heart racing again. Good grief, up close and personal the man oozed sex appeal in spades. She rested her palms on his warm, smooth skin as he lifted her into a sitting position. Oh sweet Lord in heaven, she had to stifle the insistent urge to lay her lips on the hollow at the base of his throat and lave the throbbing beat. What would he taste like?
No, no, no
. “Um, thanks. What are you doing in here?”

“I heard you scream.”

“This is getting to be a bad habit. I’m sorry I woke you. I had another dream. No, not a dream.” Her eyes widened. “Lucas, I remembered something.”

He smiled and gripped her hands in his. Her heart fluttered, and hell’s bells, her brain… It started conjuring all sorts of inappropriate things. She sighed.

“Tell me.”

She closed her eyes, his warmth and presence an anchor in this sea of uncertainty.
The memory won’t hurt me
. Not remembering would be worse anyway. “It was raining, worse than yesterday. And the fog was unusually thick. I was traveling in a car—but not mine. I don’t know where I was or where we’d been driving to, but all of a sudden the car behind us turned on their high beams and blinded me. It scared the heck out of me. We slowed when we came to a curve, but…”

“But what?” Lucas asked.

“I don’t know. I got scared again.” Never in her life had she been as terrified. Except for this morning, when she’d woken from the dream, or whatever it had been. She’d experienced the same fear then as now. “I screamed, but I don’t know why.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I didn’t remember anything after all.”

He squeezed her hand. “Sure you did. You remember being in a car, not yours, and traveling somewhere. Do you recollect who was in the car with you?”

India concentrated. A voice whispered through her mind.
“He’s going to kill us both…”
It seemed hauntingly familiar, yet she couldn’t place it.
Grrrr!
God, what the hell was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she recall the information? She sagged against the headboard. “No.”

“How about if you’d been driving?”

“I don’t believe so, but can’t be sure.” She frowned. “But, I was in the driver’s seat when you pulled me from the car, right?”

He nodded.

“Damn it, Lucas, I just can’t dredge up the details. I’ve got little bits and pieces, but not enough to answer any serious questions.”

He brushed back a stray curl. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself. You could do more harm than good.”

India grimaced. “I just want to remember everything and put this damned nightmare behind me.”

“You are remembering. Maybe not as quickly as you want to, but your memory is coming back. I’d say you’ve had a significant breakthrough this morning.”

“Maybe, if the memory is part of what happened the night of the accident.” Her stomach let out a loud growl.

A hint of a smile curved his lips. “Hungry?”

Heat crept up her neck and invaded her cheeks. “A little.” She hadn’t eaten anything since the few mouthfuls of the pastry Lucas brought up to her room yesterday.

“I don’t have much in the house, but I’ll see what I can rustle up.” He stood and extended his hand to her. “Let me help you. You’re going to hurt worse today.”

“I can already feel it.” She peered at the bedside table. As promised, a bottle of ibuprofen sat beside a cup of water. He must have brought both at some point during the night. The now familiar flood of warmth rushed through her. She smiled to herself, but she’d wait a little while and see how the day progressed before taking any of the anti-inflammatory.
Hot bath first
. It always helped ease her sore muscles.

India grasped Lucas’s hand and let him help her to her feet. She wobbled for a moment.

“Steady now.”

“I’m okay.” Her brows furrowed. “Wait.” The images flashed into her mind again. The car speeding along through the driving rain, the bright lights too close, their vehicle veering right. No, they didn’t veer right. They’d taken a right-hand exit off the highway.

Lucas grasped her arms again.

She waved him off. “I didn’t mean I need support. I meant we were in the wrong place.”

He arched up one brow. “It’s still early, India, and I haven’t had any coffee yet.”

“Huh?”

“I’m not following you.”

She gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry. We were on the highway traveling toward Marin City and… Oh my God. We were going to my house. Yes, we were definitely going to my house, but we got off before my exit.”

“Do you remember why?”

She tried to concentrate, but her mind remained infuriatingly blank. “No.”

“Maybe you decided to go somewhere different.”

She shook her head. “We hadn’t planned on getting off the road.” India drew in a sharp breath. “We had to. We
had
to get off the highway.”

“Are you sure?” Lucas asked.

India nodded. “I’m positive.” The car behind them made sure of that.

Chapter Fourteen

Lucas stared at India.
Holy shit.
Had they been forced off the road? If so, why? Or, maybe there’d been another accident? No, he’d have seen the mishap when he’d passed by. The police determined Grams’s car skidded off the road minutes before he’d come along. If only he’d left the office on time… No.
Not going there.
He’d drive himself crazy playing the “if only” game, and what if this new memory had nothing to do with the accident after all?

He’d have to wait and see what she recalled next, but he wouldn’t push her. Not again. She broke down last time he’d pressed too hard. His gut twisted. He couldn’t stand to see her cry, knowing he’d caused her tears. “I’ll go and see what I can scrounge up for us to eat. Come out to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

“I’m going to soak in the tub for a little while and see if the hot water will help loosen my muscles.”

“Good idea. Do you need some help?”

She flashed a “no-way-are-you-going-to-see-me-naked” smile. He laughed. He hadn’t made the offer as an excuse to see her in the buff, at least not on a conscious level. Anyone could see she still hurt. Every move she made seemed like a Herculean effort, and he’d only wanted to make things easier for her. He wouldn’t deny a part of him longed to see all her glorious curves. Stroke his fingers over her delectable, soft skin.
No. Not getting involved. Too much at stake.
Finding out what happened to Grams mattered most, and he wouldn’t screw things up by making another bad decision with the part of his anatomy you didn’t use to think.

“I’m good, thanks. Did you have a chance to pack my belongings last night?”

He swallowed hard. The drawer full of sinfully sexy underwear had led him straight to one of the coldest showers he’d ever taken. All that silk and lace…
Holy hell.
His brain went into overdrive, creating images of her scantily clad body in full, hi-def Technicolor glory. Again.
No!
Damn it.
They were supposed to be friends. God, why had he proposed the arrangement in the first place? He’d never been “just friends” with a woman. Not ever. “Your suitcases are in the living room. I’ll get everything and put it in here while you soak in the tub.”

“Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.”

She slung an arm around his shoulder and gave him a quick, affectionate squeeze. Affectionate being the key word. Yes, she’d taken his words to heart.
Idiot.

He nodded and left the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, then strode into the living room. Bright sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. A long, narrow balcony stretched the entire length of the condo with access through the dining area, living room and master suite. He’d set up a bistro table and chairs out there. Maybe India would enjoy eating breakfast outside? It wouldn’t be stifling hot this early. He’d make sure to ask her when she finished her bath.

India. Naked in the tub.
Shit.
He had to stop fantasizing about her. They couldn’t get involved. She was his employee. She had amnesia and… Bullshit, his brain scoffed.

He sighed. Yeah, it was. Bottom line, Lucas didn’t do the serious thing. No way. No how. And India… She deserved better. Someone who’d stick around for more than a few weeks or even a few months. Not that he wouldn’t be faithful during their time together. He would. Definitely. But, sooner or later the infatuation, or lust, or whatever you wanted to call it would end and he’d walk away. He always did. Why invest in a relationship? Love didn’t last, and when things ended, your heart got ripped out and torn to shreds.

He didn’t want to hurt her. Didn’t want to be another person in her life who used and then discarded her. Worse, he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Trouble was, he’d already experienced her mind-blowing kisses, and the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to feel those lips on his again, taste the sweetness of her soft, supple skin. Lord, he wanted to bury himself inside her deep enough that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. Pain shot through his groin.
Shit, shit, shit
.

With supreme effort, he shoved the vivid fantasies away, and gathered her belongings. He returned to the bedroom with the suitcases, laptop, briefcase and her purse.

In the kitchen, he opened the fridge and spotted a small carton of eggs. Lifting the lid, he found four. Enough for both of them, he hoped. A package of deli American cheese sat next to a quart of milk and some butter. A loaf of whole-grain bread rested on the bottom shelf. He kept it in the cool air so it wouldn’t spoil as fast as it might if he placed it in one of the cabinet drawers.

He set the ingredients on the island. Grabbing a frying pan from the lower corner cupboard, he placed it on the stove, then returned to the counter and stared at the items. How hard could it be to make eggs? Okay, he’d never cooked them himself, ever, but Grams had made them in front of him hundreds of times. She’d cracked them open on the edge of the pan, let the whites and yolk fall onto the surface, and cooked them until they became light and fluffy. No problem.

Lucas turned on the stove and cracked each of the four eggs into the pan. He let them cook until they appeared done, then found a spatula and tried to scoop them out, but they stuck to the surface.

Damn.
He’d forgotten the nonstick spray. Maybe he could still salvage them? He worked the spatula under the white, rubbery blobs. The eggs ripped to shreds.
Not worth eating now.
After scraping out the remains onto a paper towel, Lucas marched to the trash and dumped them in.

An acrid smell filled the air.
Oh, shit.
He ran to the stove. The residue stuck on the bottom of the pan had burned to a crisp char. Smoke rose from the surface, and a loud, obnoxious beep rent the air. He yanked the pan off the stove and shoved it in the sink, then turned on the vent.

With two quick strides, he reached the smoke alarm, yanked off the cover and took out the battery. The blaring stopped.
This is why I buy pastries for breakfast.

“Is everything okay?”

Lucas turned to find India standing at the entrance to the kitchen, dressed in a much-too-big-for-her white terrycloth robe cinched tight around her waist. A few water droplets still clung to her skin. Damn. She looked sexy as hell. His groin tightened. “Everything is fine.” Except he’d burned what he’d planned to make for breakfast and he didn’t have an alternative. “I’m going to run to the market down the street to pick up a few things.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. I want to eat, too, but I don’t have much in the house. I only keep the bare necessities on hand, and…” Oh, he may as well confess. “The truth is, I’m not much of a cook.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “I’d never have guessed.”

He laughed, and India did, too. He loved the sweet, melodious sound. “I’m willing to give it another shot.”

“Honestly, Lucas, peanut butter on toast is fine with me as long as you’ve got coffee. I’ll need it today to get my work done.”

“I’ve got coffee, but you’re not working today.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “I’m not going to argue with you on this. The doctor said you need plenty of rest and it’s exactly what you’re going to get.”

Her eyes widened. “What am I supposed to do all day? I’m not going to sit around watching television.”

He ambled over to the coffee maker and made a fresh pot. “You can read a book. I have a Kindle in my room. You can pick one of the thrillers I already have on it or feel free to download anything else you’re interested in. If reading doesn’t suit you, you can listen to music or go and lie out in the sun for a while. Do anything you’d like, but you’re not working. Now, I’m going to the market. Do you need anything?”

India shook her head.

“Okay, the coffee should be ready in a few minutes. Help yourself when it’s done.”

She grinned, and Lucas’s heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be back soon.” He grabbed his keys, and exited the condo.

Lucas pulled out his cell when he reached the car. It rang as he sifted through his contacts. “Hello, Richard.”

“I got your message, and you don’t have to worry about the deed. The land records indicate a transfer of ownership to Tabbat and Associates on the specified date.”

Lucas let out a low whistle. “So the sale is legitimate.”

“Yes. I confirmed with the corporate attorney who handled the paperwork.”

“Then where is the money?”

“After taxes were paid, the rest was deposited in her real estate business account. I contacted the accounts reviewing the agency’s financial records as part of settling Evelyn’s estate and they verified.”

Grams had definitely sold the brownstone, but why? “Do you know why she decided to sell now?”

“I don’t. Now what’s this about you needing some recommendations for private investigators? Does this have anything to do with your grandmother’s estate?”

“I’m not sure. An accident occurred during the final stages of the Young building remodel and almost injured Grams and her interior designer, India Leone. Another accident happened yesterday. This one at the Acquati property in Miami. India Leone was injured, but not seriously.”

Richard drew in a sharp breath. “Wasn’t India Leone in the car with Evelyn the night of her accident?”

Lucas nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you suspect foul play?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to believe, but something’s not right.”

“Give Mark Sampson a call. I believe he can help you. I’ll have my assistant send you his contact information.”

“Thanks, Richard.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lucas disconnected the line. He unlocked the Z4, slid behind the wheel and turned the ignition. He pressed the speaker button and spoke. “Call Amanda Young.”

“Hi, Lucas. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in with you to see how the move is going.”

“Things are going smoothly. Brett stopped by yesterday after his flight got in and we packed up most of Grams’s files. They’ll go over to the Acquati along with the office equipment tomorrow. Which reminds me. I believe I’ve found the reason Grams fired India.”

“Why did she?”

“The wall that collapsed at the Young building…”

“What about it?”

“It wasn’t sabotage, Lucas.”

His blood chilled. “It wasn’t?”

“The investigator determined the incident had been the result of faulty workmanship. I came across the report when I packed up Grams’s desk. The workman on India’s team screwed up. Grams fired her when she learned the truth. She lied to you, Lucas.”

No.
What Amanda said didn’t make sense. “India told me neither she nor Grams believed what happened was an accident.”

“The report states only one of the temporary supports was secured to the wall. The others were not. I think it’s time to face some facts, Lucas.”

His temples started to throb. “What?”

“There’d been bad blood between India and Grams.” After a short pause Amanda added, “Okay, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but I feel I must after learning India lied to you.”

Lucas gripped the steering wheel. “What is it?”

“Mom believes India had something to do with Grams’s death, and I do, too. She wanted retribution for Grams having fired her.”

“Are you saying India set out to murder Grams that night?”

“Yes.”