Fangs for the Memories by Kathy Love Read Free Book Online

by him. He rubbed and swirled. Until she exploded.
    Jane gasped and panted, and finally once the ecstasy slowly subsided into long, slow waves of satisfaction, she opened her eyes.
    “Oh, my,” she breathed. She’d never, never had a dream like that.
    “I agree,” a rich, husky voice said.
    Jane shot up and made a startled noise. Rhys knelt, fully naked, between her spread thighs.
    “Good morning.” He greeted her with a lopsided smile.
    Jane backed away from him, mortified, until the headboard stopped her retreat. Then she scrambled off the bed and dashed through an open door that she prayed was the bathroom. Slamming the door, she leaned heavily against it.
    What had she done? She tried to recall how she could have gotten here—with Rhys—but nothing was clear. The last clear memory she had was Rhys saving her in the alley. He walked her back to the hotel. She realized she lost her parents’ wedding rings, and she went to look for them. And then…
    Here. Having an orgasm. An orgasm Rhys gave her.
    Even thinking about that made her knees feel weak.
    What? Was she mad? Wasn’t she worried about what else had happened between them—things she couldn’t remember?
    Had they had full intercourse? Again, her knees felt weak, and longing pooled deep in her belly.
    Was she deranged? She shouldn’t be feeling turned on by the prospects of a night with him that she couldn’t remember. She should be freaking out.
    Well, she was freaking out. But she feared it wasn’t for the right reasons.
    A light rap on the door caused her to jump.
    “Are you all right in there?”
    She took a deep breath. “Yes. I’ll be out in a minute.”
    She closed her eyes. What did Rhys think of her? He must think she was a first-rate hussy.
     
    Rhys sat on the edge of the bed. It would cost a few hundred pounds and likely a house in town to keep her as his mistress. But whatever the price he would keep her. She was first-rate.
    He glanced at the nightstand, looking for his pocket watch. It was not there, but two gold rings and a necklace sat on the dark, polished wood.
    He picked up the small ring, noting that the circle was so tiny it would only fit someone the stature of the little woman in the other room. He picked up the other ring. It was bigger, thicker, more masculine. He vaguely remembered these. Remembered that they had to do with the woman in the other room.
    He twisted it over and over in his palm, trying to remember, when an inscription on the ring caught his eye.
    To R
— Yours
forever. J
.
    His chest tightened. Was this ring intended for him? Slowly, he slid the gold band onto his finger. It was snug, but it fit.
    He stared at the ring for several seconds before he crossed to the closed door and threw it open.
    The woman squealed and tried to cover herself with her hands.
    Rhys ignored her modesty, although he knew her reaction was real. Not even ten minutes ago, he would have thought the behavior was an expensive whore’s trick to entice him. Now he knew different.
    “Are we married?” he demanded, holding up the smaller of the two rings.
 
 
Chapter 5
     
    Jane’s first thought was to say, no! But then she realized she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t remember, and apparently, neither did he .
    Did
New York
have those all-night chapels like Las Vegas ? She’d never heard of them, but at this point, anything seemed possible.
    “I—I don’t think so.”
    She stared at him. He was still bare-chested, his torso defined with hard muscle. T hank fully, he had pulled on his trousers; otherwise she never would have been able to speak. Although the pants were unfastened, revealing a vee of flat stomach and light whorls of hair trailing downward.
    She dragged her eyes upward
to
his face. That didn’t help. He was a truly beautiful man. His hair was mussed from sleep, and his eyes were intent, studying her.
    He frowned, even as a look of realization washed over his features. “You are Jane Harrison.” He said it