Smoked

little over two hours. “How about an early lunch?”
“If you’re hungry,” she responded with zero animation in her voice. It made me want to do something to piss her off just so the fire would come back into her eyes.
Instead, I’d take her somewhere special.
“What is this?” Siren asked when I drove through the gates of Asheville’s well-known Biltmore Estate.
“This place was built by George Vanderbilt, Cornelius Vanderbilt’s grandson.”
“Should those names mean anything to me?” she asked, looking out at the spectacular views of the property.
“Not necessarily. To be honest, I know very little about the family myself.”
Siren gasped when we drove through a second set of gates and, to our right, she saw the main house. I stopped the SUV and put it in park.
“It looks like a castle.”
“It’s the largest privately owned house in the United States,” I said, reading over the brochure I’d picked up earlier while shopping. “Would you like to look at this?” I asked, handing it to her.
“Is this where we’re having lunch?”
“Not precisely, but we are dining on the estate.”
I continued our drive past the vast gardens, along winding roads, until I came to Antler Hill Winery.
“This is lovely,” Siren said, stopping to look out at the rolling hills of vineyards. “It reminds me of something.”
I walked over and stood behind her. What I was about to do was risky. However, Siren needed to remember things, whether or not that meant she and I would go from lovers back to enemies. Not helping her was selfish on my part. “Close your eyes.” I peeked over her shoulder and put my mouth near her ear.
“You and I were in Spain, on the island of Mallorca. We were working an asset-protection op, and one night, there was a meteor shower predicted. We sat on the sand as the full moon illuminated the ocean and the hills of vineyards on the estate.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “I think I remember,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“You looked so beautiful—your pale skin glowed, and the fire I saw in your eyes…I came so close to kissing you.”
Her eyes opened. “But you didn’t?”
“Not then.”
“Why not?”
“A lot of reasons. We were working.”
“And yet we were sitting on the beach, looking for shooting stars?”
I turned her in my arms and looked into her icy-blue eyes. “I didn’t dare hope you’d want me to.”
“I did.” Another tear ran down her cheek. “I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”
I leaned down and kissed her like I’d wanted to do that night. Siren wrapped her arms around my neck, and I slid my tongue between her open lips. I didn’t care if the tourists walking to and from their cars saw us or even if it made anyone uncomfortable. I’d stopped myself from tasting her lips that night, and today, I couldn’t.
She pulled away first and looked into my eyes. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’d enjoy shopping a bit before we head back,” said Maureen.
“You’re not hungry?” asked Siren.
“I’ll grab a bite on my own,” she said with a wave as she walked away.
“I feel terrible.”
“Don’t. She looked happy.”
“She’s probably getting tired of being around me,” Siren muttered. “And don’t say you are too.”
I smiled. “I’d never tire of being with you.”
“You’re not a very good liar, Smoke.”
I led Siren up the steps to the main winery building. Since she couldn’t have alcohol until cleared by her doctor and I was driving, we declined the offer of a glass of wine while we sat out on the patio and enjoyed our lunch.
“This was really lovely,” she said when we left the estate and returned to the medical complex. The closer we got, the more I could feel Siren’s anxiety increase. I reached over and clasped her hand.
“Whatever we learn, we’ll face together.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
Rather than go in with us, Maureen offered to remain in the waiting room while Siren and I spoke with the doctor.
“This is healing nicely,” he said after he removed Siren’s bandages and studied her incision. “We can leave these off.”
Siren’s hand went to her shaved head, and her eyes filled with tears. I brushed past the doctor and put my hand around her wrist. “It will grow back.” I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. “Let’s hear what else he has to say.”
She nodded and wiped away her tears.
“As Dr. Mansfield informed you, we see no evidence of a medical reason for your amnesia.”
“Might something show up on the other scan?” she asked while I sat, stunned she hadn’t mentioned this news during lunch.
“I’ve received preliminary results, and no, nothing showed up there either.”
“Which means?” I asked.
“I believe it is only a matter of time before Miss Gallagher’s memory returns.”
“That’s great news,” I said out loud, while inside, I felt like I’d just been given the worst news possible.
“As far as physical activity, I’d like you to begin therapy next week. In the meantime, as long as you don’t overdo it, you can resume sexual relations along with light exercise.”
“Are there any other restrictions?” she asked.
“Only that you take things slow. Adequate rest will continue to be imperative to your ongoing recovery.”
While both Siren and I should be smiling, given the news, neither of us were.
Rather than unloading the things I’d purchased for her earlier in the day, we packed up what we’d taken into the rental house after Siren asked if we could return to the ranch instead of spending another night in Asheville.
She was quiet, sleeping on and off during the drive back while I spent the time wondering if I should disregard Dr. Mansfield’s warning not to tell Siren the truth about our relationship.
“I’d like to lie down for a bit,” she said once we’d driven through the ranch gates and reached the main house.
“Of course. I’ll bring everything in.”
When I walked inside and down the hallway, the door to my bedroom stood open.