“I left it at your penthouse after I got back from Johannesburg.”

“What the hell? You unilaterally ended our engagement?”

She nodded like it was the most obvious thing to do in the world, but her throat worked as she swallowed.

“You can’t do that,” he said.

“Uh, I think I can. And any woman would, if she’d gone through what I went through,” she said, lifting her chin.

“Are you lumping yourself in with all the other women out there?”

A slight smile curved her lips, but it wasn’t friendly. “Nice try. But you aren’t going to put me on the defensive.”

“I’m not putting you on anything. Just pointing out that it’s unfair to hold something I did after I lost my memory against me.”

She shook her head. “There’s more to it.”

“Did we fight a lot? Is that why I left?”

“No.” She tucked a wayward tendril behind her ear. The solitaire diamond on the lobe sparkled. “We rarely fought. As a matter of fact, we got along very well.”

He slowly made his way back around the table, thinking, women. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Do you have any idea what it did to me when you left the way you did? I thought the place had gotten robbed or something. There was stuff strewn everywhere.”

He cringed. “Maybe I’m messy.” He always had people picking up after him, and maybe Ginger was a neat freak.

“No. It was beyond messy. You were in a hurry to go. I had no idea why…and I still don’t know.” She took a sip of water. “And when you ignored my emails, texts and calls, I thought maybe something had happened to you…except your family was so blasé I figured that couldn’t be right. Then I learned your brother Mark knew where you were. You were in touch with him…but not me. Not your fiancée. And then there’s the hotel.” She dragged in a shuddering breath. “Do you know what it was like to see you with that woman?”

He scowled. The coffee suddenly turned bitter in his mouth. “I didn’t know I was engaged. But don’t worry, I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Ginger said, arching an eyebrow. “She was gorgeous. Probably a model.”

“An aspiring model, and yes, damn it, you should believe me when I tell you I didn’t sleep with her.” He scowled at her. “I just couldn’t, okay? It felt wrong to do anything sexual with her.” He set the coffee cup down with a loud clink. “Trust me, there have been plenty of offers. And I’m not going to lie: the women who threw themselves at me were very good-looking, objectively speaking. But, well…they just didn’t do anything for me.”

Ginger watched him with unfathomable eyes. They seemed so deep, deeper than the ocean. He didn’t think he could ever figure out what was in her heart. And he had a feeling that she didn’t believe him.

“Just because somebody isn’t ugly doesn’t mean I want to have sex with them. Those women didn’t make me want to grab them and kiss them senseless, or throw them up against the closest available wall and push their dresses up.”

A delicate flush darkened her cheeks, and her mouth parted.

“It’s you, only you. And I didn’t realize it until yesterday, but somehow you’ve left such a mark on me that I’m unable to want anybody but you.”

“Stop,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Don’t you want the truth? Don’t you want to know what I’m thinking, what I’m feeling?” Frustration tightened his chest. “You keep telling me I made mistakes and that I hurt you because I didn’t remember. So I’m telling you what I can. I may never regain my memory. It’s been a while, and you’d think if I was going to make a full recovery, I’d’ve done so by now.” He leaned closer until he could smell her—orchids and butter cream. And in an instant his fury turned darkly possessive. “I’m not going to accept that our engagement is off. End of discussion.”

* * *

End of discussion. Easy for him to say after telling her all that.

Strangely enough, Ginger believed what he’d said about not sleeping with the women who’d thrown themselves at him. When they’d been together, he’d never, ever looked at other women. She’d had her doubts about their relationship from time to time, especially in the beginning. They were too different—he stunningly gorgeous and wealthy and powerful, while she just pretty with an average family background, the kind you would find anywhere in America. He also hadn’t had much family love—his parents had been too busy with their lives and affairs to care. With her, it had been the opposite. Her family might not have been materially wealthy, but they were rich in love. Her mom often worried Ginger was dating somebody so different, but Shane had been sweet to her in public and passionate in private. And despite his father’s and brother Mark’s reputation as womanizers, Shane had been utterly faithful.

But that wasn’t enough anymore. If he hadn’t left the States the way he had, she might have been able to pick up where they’d left off. She could even pretend like she hadn’t lost something precious in Amsterdam. But Shane couldn’t live in Thailand and other vacation spots forever, and neither could she. And the second he went home, the best doctors in the world would be working on him. It was only a matter of time before he got his memory back. Then whatever that had made him leave in the first place would start to fester. If he left her again, she simply wouldn’t be able to deal with it.

How could she risk that?

Shane tilted his chin. She was about to tell him to forget it when her phone rang. The ringtone from the Brady Bunch made her smile. It was her half-brother, Trevor. “Excuse me,” she said and walked away from the table. “Hi, Trevor.”

“What’s this I’m hearing? You’re in Thailand? At the Pryce vacation home?”

Her jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“I have my contacts.”

She shook her head and started up to her room, not wanting everyone to overhear their conversation. Trevor and his contacts. She could swear he worked for the CIA, even though he wouldn’t admit to anything.

“What are you doing there? I thought you were through with that bastard.”

She winced. Trevor had always been overprotective. She supposed that was par for the course since he was five years older. But he’d gone a bit too far. Recently he’d refused to refer to Shane by name, instead preferring “that bastard.” Apparently that was the least Shane deserved for breaking her heart. “I’m here on a job.” She closed the suite door behind her and sat on the edge of her bed.

“Job? Who’s getting married?”

“Dane is paying me more than four times my fee to get Shane to come home.”

“Why doesn’t he send his own family?” Then Trevor snorted. “Oh never mind. Who’s gonna want to go home to a school of barracudas?”

“Jeez, Trev—”

“Wait. Do barracudas even have schools?”

“They aren’t that bad.”

“Are you kidding? I’m insulting the barracudas. His family’s a bunch of fuck-ups, especially his parents. I’ve run some checks—”

“Have you been spying on them?”

“Don’t ask me things I can’t answer.”

“Look, I know you mean well, but you need to stay out of this, okay? Shane’s my ex, and I’ll handle him.”

“I wouldn’t be so hostile if he treated you right. He’s never appreciated how special you are.” The edge in Trevor’s voice hardened. “He’s lucky I was in Russia and couldn’t track him down after what he did to you. I knew it was bad when Debbie had to fly to Amsterdam to join you for retail therapy.”

Ginger took a deep breath. Trevor didn’t know exactly what had happened. Her best friend Debbie Chang had told everyone she was meeting Ginger for some frivolous shopping, and apparently Trevor hadn’t bothered to check the story. “It was a while ago, and I’ve gotten over it. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“So it’s just a job, right? Just money? You aren’t doing anything else with him?”

Her mind flashed back to the storm. How Shane had kissed her and suckled her and given her the best orgasm of the past year. “Nope.”