Amelia found herself staring at the kitchen faucets. One was dripping. She felt like she should be salivating, but her throat was too dry. As Tom reached for the door, she grabbed his other hand. “Mind if I have a super-quick drink of water? I hate to slow us down, but I am so incredibly thirsty.”
He looked at her like she’d dropped a revelation. “Damn, I am too! Yes, let’s rehydrate.”
He found some glasses in a cupboard, filled them, and handed one to her. She chugged the water back gratefully—and then coughed and spat some out. Her brain had assembled a picture that was so vivid it felt like it was playing out right that minute. The two of them in the shower last night, taking turns to catch the water on their tongues, laughing. He’d said: “Is it wrong to say that you falling down my stairs was the best bit of bad luck I’ve ever had?” And he’d kissed her, and things hadkicked off all over again, almost immediately after they’d just finished. And then she’d said…
“Best Jane Austen tour ever,” Tom said quietly, clutching his glass.
“I’m sorry, what?” Amelia said, thumping her chest with her fist as she recovered from her coughing fit.
“I just remembered something from last night. We were in the shower, and you said, ‘Best Jane Austen tour ever.’ While I…” He smiled a little. “How did I not rememberthatuntil now?”
“I was just thinking about the same thing.”
He double blinked. “It’s areallyvivid memory.” His voice cracked a little on the “really.”
“So vivid.”
“It’s as if the memory didn’t exist before, but now it’s fixed in my brain as if it’d never left. I said, ‘I haven’t even got to the…’”
“‘Good part,’” she finished, her cheeks heating.
“So that did happen? Tell me this conversation is not all in my head. We’re getting our memories back?”
“Oh, it definitely happened.” She blew out a breath. “It’s like the memory isn’t just in my mind, but it’s washing through my whole body.” She looked down, and she could swear she saw a wave of light rolling through her. “Like I’m reliving it.” She met his gaze, and that too took her back to the previous night. “Holy shit, that was some good?—”
Tom cradled her head and kissed her, catching her gasp in his mouth. She kissed him back, hard. He pushed her against the counter, pressing into the fieriest parts of her. She groaned. Even that feeling was part-memory and part-right-now, with the two parts doubling down to create a nerve inferno.
Wait, this definitely wasn’t the right time forthat. She pushed away, but met no resistance—he was pulling back, looking as surprised as she was.
“Sergeant Kamdar did say our memories would return,” he said, breathing heavily.
“Quick, what else do you remember? I mean, anything to do with the rolled-up carpet?”
He frowned, staring out the little kitchen window. “It’s like the things around that moment are all blurry. I try to look straight at something, in my memory, and it scoots away.”
“I remember everything up until we found the brandy. After that, only tiny patches.”
“I remember drinking the first glass, lying on the bed.” He met her gaze with a very sexy one of his own. “Next to you.”
“Yes,” she said huskily. “We stripped one item of clothing off each other after each sip.”
“A ritual.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I was so, so turned on.”
She gulped. “Me too. Was that the drug, or… And how about now? Are you feeling…?”
“Oh God, yeah.”
“They do say that life or death situations can make you…” She couldn’t finish the thought. It would be completely inappropriate, given the circumstances, but the only thought shecouldfinish was that she wanted to tear his clothes off, right here, right now. The lurch from fear to lust was dizzying.
“I have this incredible urge to…” he said in a rush.
“Right? I mean obviously, we can’t. We need to get out of here. But the feeling is so strong. What’s with that?”
He nodded, stepping toward the back door, then turned back. “Just one more?”
