the quick, languishing over news from Simone about the blood test results, she’d finally given in and called him. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to talk with him, and couldn’t explain why his reaction to her affected her so much. All she knew for sure was that guilt had consumed her every minute of every day since their meeting. And if she didn’t do something to fix it, it was going to eat away at her and prevent her from finding the answers she desperately needed.
She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. And because of that, she tried to put herself in Ryan’s position, to imagine what she’d do if Jake suddenly returned from the grave.
Her fingers dug deeper into the seat as anger coursed through her. The first thing she’d do is handcuff him to a chair until she got the answers she was looking for. Then she’d sandblast him for putting her through this nightmare.
On a deep breath, she forcibly released her grip and ran her hands over her hair. Jake wasn’t going to rise from the dead. And she was stuck without a past.
She spotted Ryan walking along the waterfront path before he spotted her. That odd sense of déjà vu she’d felt in the street outside his house rushed through her as she watched him. His hands were tucked in the front pockets of his slacks, and he wore dark sunglasses over his eyes, but she didn’t miss the scowl on his face. Or the rigid shoulders and stiff back that screamed of his unease at the current situation.
He stopped a few feet away. Clenched his jaw. When she stood to meet him, her stomach pitched, a reaction she wasn’t prepared for.
“Thanks for coming,” she managed.
“I’m not entirely sure why I did.” There was an icy tone to his voice she didn’t like. Did he use it in his business dealings to intimidate and influence? If so, it was effective.
“I appreciate it, all the same.” She shifted her weight, not sure what she wanted to say now that he was standing in front of her. An awkward silence spread between them like a vast ocean.
“I doubt you know anything yet, so why this little meeting?” he asked.
For some reason, she wanted to reach out and bridge the gap between them. To comfort him. Which was an unexpected reaction. “No, I don’t. Simone said it would take probably a week for the test results. Which, by the way, I wanted to thank you for agreeing to.”
He didn’t respond, just rocked back on his heels and watched her. A whiff of his scent drifted on the air, and a shiver of awareness swept over her when she drew it in, that musky spice oddly familiar.
Not familiarity, she told herself. Awareness. He was an attractive and powerful man, and underneath it all, she was still a woman. Even before any of this had happened, she’d thought he was handsome. The tabloids and magazines, though, didn’t do him justice. His nose was straight, his jaw square and clean shaven, his features chiseled and so very masculine. And his mouth…
Her gaze traveled to his lips. Full. Smooth. Tempting. She wondered what it would feel like to brush her thumb across that bottom lip, to trace the faint scar down the right side of his chin. The man had a sensual mouth that at one time she’d probably kissed and tasted and claimed as her own.
Whoa.
Where the heck had that come from? She forced her gaze away from that tantalizing mouth and back up to his eyes—or his sunglasses, to be more precise.
And because she couldn’t see those eyes, she was having an increasingly difficult time reading him. It only added to her unease.
“Okay, look,” she said, straightening her back, putting the hormonal thoughts out of her mind. “I just wanted to apologize for all of this. I know you’re not very happy with me. And I want you to know that I’m really sorry. I just want to know the truth. You have no idea what this is like for me.”
“For you?” His blond brow raised behind dark glasses. “I don’t know what this is like for you? Try being in my place for ten seconds.”
A sigh escaped her lips. “I have. I know this isn’t easy for you, for any of you. I didn’t intentionally wake up one morning and say, ‘Hey, I think I’ll find Ryan Harrison and screw up his life.’ I’m