Slow Burn (34 page)

A sigh escaped her. When Ron tightened his
arm around her waist, she whispered, “Ron?”

“Hmm-mm,” he mumbled and draped a leg over
her thigh.

“Are you awake?”

This time, there was no response. It boggled
her mind how he could sleep so soundly after all that had happened.
When her mind wasn’t preoccupied with what Kirkland wrote, it kept
replaying what she recalled during hypnosis.

Her glance went to the side-table clock.
Three o’clock. She was too wired to go to sleep and couldn’t
discuss things with Ron. Ashley removed his arm from her waist. But
when she tried to push his leg off her, he mumbled something
unintelligible and wound his arm back around her waist. Then he
shifted, practically landing half his weight on her and effectively
trapping her.

“You big oaf,” she murmured under her breath
and shoved at his arm. “I’m trying to get up.”

“Hmm-mm?”

“Could you get off me?” She strived to be
polite when what she wanted was to yell at him. It was unreasonable
to take out her frustrations on him, but it irked her that he’d
drifted off to sleep right after they’d made love while sleep
eluded her.

He lifted his head and peered at her. “Where
are you going?”

“Downstairs to get a drink of water or
something,” she whispered, not bothering to mask her
irritation.

He slid a hand along her cheek, then through
her hair, and gently massaged her scalp. “Poor, sweetheart. Can’t
sleep?”

Just like that, the bitch in her died a quick
death. “I’m okay, just need a drink. Why don’t you go back to
sleep? I’ll be back shortly.”

He lifted his leg off her and sat up, the
Indian-patterned comforter sliding to his waist. His hand eased out
of her hair and moved down her arm to her hand. “Do you want to
talk?”

“We covered most of it last night. I think
I’ll work on a painting until fatigue hits me.”

His gaze went to the clock. “Do you know it’s
three in the morning?” he said, not masking his shock.

“I know. I’m used to working odd hours.” She
slid off the bed, leaned down to give him a brief kiss then pushed
at his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

Ashley could feel his eyes on her as she
reached for a sturdy robe to cover her nude body. One glance at him
and a smile, then she headed downstairs.

“Ashley.”

The quiet way he said her name caused her to
pause and turn her head to glance at him. “Yes?”

“I’m happy you’re coming with me to Vegas
tomorrow.”

She’d completely forgotten about that after
all the craziness at the hospital. “I will be, too, once I know
what to wear.”

He chuckled. “A pair of jeans and a shirt
should suffice.”

Just like a man not to care about first
impressions. From what he’d told her about his grandmother, she
might need a designer outfit just to break the ice. Although why it
was important to impress the old bird beat the hell out of her.
“Let me worry about it, sweetie. Go back to sleep.”

Downstairs, she made herself a cup of hot
chocolate then picked up her journal and quickly wrote down what
had happened the last twelve hours and her plans for tomorrow. Ever
since her amnesia, she documented everything that happened to her
and every move she was about to make. If she was in a hurry, she
used the Post-Its and transferred them later to the book. Once she
got all her memory back, this habit would be a thing of the past.
Satisfied with what she wrote, Ashley got her sketch pad and went
to work. Everything she’d remembered during hypnosis became
immortalized on paper. Between the sketches and the Post-it
reminders, she’d never forget a single moment. After an hour, she
headed to the easel, pulled on her smock and picked up where she
left off the day before.

She put the brushes down and studied the
partially finished face. Not bad at all. The eyes needed more work,
but all in all, she was pleased with the results. A yawn escaped
her as she placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin on the
heel of her hand. Just a few seconds’ rest then she’d wash the
brushes and head upstairs to bed.

“Hey, sleepy head.”

The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted to
her nose. When she tried to open her eyes, and they refused to
cooperate, she shifted and turned her head away. Her cheek touched
a soft, cool cushion. Smiling, she buried her face into the
softness.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

Burrowing deeper under the blanket, she
ignored the voice. Suddenly, the blanket was yanked off her. Cool
air swooshed over her warm, naked skin.

Ashley sat up, snatched a feather pillow from
beside her head and slapped it on her naked bosom. Then she glared
at her tormentor, who was already showered, going by the wet hair,
freshly shaved face and clean clothes.

“If you ever pull a stunt like that again….”
She frowned. How had she gotten upstairs? She remembered resting
her chin on her hands, then nothing. Her robe and smock were at the
foot of the bed. Her eyes went to Ron again. “Did you bring me up
here and undress me?”

“Uh-huh.” Her ears grew hot when the handsome
rogue grinned without an ounce of shame. “Loved every minute of
it…except for the carrying part. You aren’t exactly a
lightweight.”

Her eyes narrowed. Handsome rogue or not, he
was close to being bludgeoned to death if he didn’t watch it. “I’m
not heavy.”

“Tell that to my back. You must weigh at
least…hey, hey don’t throw that.” He thrust the cup of coffee in
front of her, his gaze bouncing between her face and the pillow she
was brandishing like a lance. “You don’t want to burn that
delectable body. I happen to love it just the way it is.”

She shook the pillow at him. “Just watch what
you say to me in the morning, buster.”

“Not a morning person, are you?” he said with
amusement.

“You’re disgustingly cheerful.” She used her
armpits to secure the pillow across her chest and accepted his
morning offering. “Thanks.”

He leaned against the rail and studied her as
she sipped the coffee, a small grin playing on his lips. “You also
squeeze the toothpaste tube the wrong way.”

She rolled her eyes. “Next time bring your
own. I happen to like mine squeezed from the middle, thank you very
much. And if you used my toothbrush, I’m going to make you very,
very sorry.”

He chuckled. “You’re really not a morning
person. And no, I borrowed a new one I found in a drawer. So, you
don’t recall anything that happened this morning?”

The devilish grin he wore set off all her
alarms. She sipped the coffee and kept eyeing him. “What?”

“You talk a lot when you’re drowsy. You kept
repeating it in my ear as I carried you upstairs, as I undressed
and tucked you in bed. Want to know what it was?”

Oh, Lord, she probably opened her big mouth
and told him that she loved him. Her face heated with
embarrassment. Keeping her gaze on her steaming coffee, she uttered
a soft, “No.”

“Why? Those sweet words made me feel
invincible, the luckiest man alive.”

“Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it.” She put
her unfinished coffee on the nightstand, then scooted to the edge
of the bed and reached for her robe. “I was tired, sleepy and
vulnerable.” She thrust her arms into the sleeves, yanked the robe
around her body then glared at Ron. “I wasn’t myself.” He didn’t
even bother to hide his satisfied grin, the smug lout. “Did you say
something about breakfast?” Her eyes dared him to tease her one
more time, just one more time.

As though he realized she was capable of
inflicting some major bodily harm, he straightened and stepped away
from her. “I’m planning on making some while you shower and
change.”

He was sweet. Still, it bothered her that she
didn’t know what she’d told him. Her gaze stayed on him, as he
started downstairs. When he paused and glanced back at her, she
braced herself.

“I forgot to ask what you want for
breakfast,” he said.

Ashley studied his poker face. “Anything.”
When he continued to stare at her, she started to fidget. The
longer the silence, the more uneasy she became. “Okay, out with it.
What did I say?”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. You
didn’t mean it.” He continued down the stairs.

He was hedging now, which was very unlike
him. Although considering how she’d been acting since she woke up,
who’d blame him. Now, more than ever, she wanted to know what she’d
told him.

Two quick steps forward brought her to the
railing. “Ronald Noble,” she called out. When he paused at the foot
of the stairs and glanced up at her, she added, “Last night, you
told me you hated to be taken for a fool. Me, too. Tell me what I
said.”

He studied her, his expression serious. “You
said that you’re crazy about me, thought I was wonderful, the best
thing that ever happened to you.” He studied her face for a moment.
“Am I?”

Ashley smiled with relief. Of course he was
wonderful. She wouldn’t have fallen in love with him if he weren’t.
“Yes, Ronald Noble. I think you’re those things and much more, a
very special person.”

Ashley bit back a smile when he scowled. An
average man would have grinned triumphantly or dashed back upstairs
to kiss her, but not Ron. Her man was anything but predictable. It
was just one of the many things she loved about him.

“I think you’re special too, Ashley
Fitzgerald. That’s why I’m nuts about you.” His cell phone started
to ring. “We’ll finish this conversation later.” He plucked up his
phone and brought it to his ear.

Ashley turned and headed for the bathroom.
She was sure she had a goofy smile on her face. He was nuts about
her, yes! Thought she was special, double yes!

Just before she stepped in the shower, Ron
knocked on the bathroom door. Maybe she could convince her man to
have another shower, a slow and long one. Just to show him she was
now comfortable walking around him naked, she flashed a seductress
smile as she flung the door open.

“That was Kenny with good and bad news. Dr.
Reuben won’t make it.” He ran an appreciative glance down and up
her body, a slow grin curling his sculptured lips. He reached out
to cup her breasts, but her interest had shifted.

She trapped his hands. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah. She needs to see to her other
patients, but she’ll see you on Saturday at ten. We should be back
from Vegas by then. I’ll call the pilot and change our flight
plans. Can I have my hands back?”

“Not yet. What’s the good news?”

“Kenny and your cousin had a long
conversation. The L.A.P.D. is officially reopening the Carlyle
House fire case.”

“About time.”

“The hotel worker at Sunset Marquis confirmed
that the man Dunn spoke with was Frankie Higgins. Kenny promised to
let your cousin know about Kirkland writing down the name Doyle
too.” He eased his hands from hers, cupped her cheeks and gave her
a lingering kiss. “We got them, babe. Once the police nab Frankie
and the Doyles, this madness will stop.”

What would that mean to their relationship?
She hated to think about that now, but the thought kept creeping on
her. “What about the person who sent you the letters?”

“Probably someone who wanted the Doyles
busted. Whoever it is, I hope to thank him or her some day. Now
you, my delectable seductress, had better hit the shower. We need
to get out of here.” He nudged her around and swatted her bare
bottom.

***

Two hours later, Ashley and Ron left her
place for his, where he changed and packed an overnight bag. They
headed to his office. Located in downtown L.A., the offices of
Neumann Security occupied the entire top floor of one of the
plazas. She met his assistant Nikki, a tall, long-legged, stunning
blonde, who somehow managed to make high-heels and a mid-thigh
skirt suit look tasteful. Ashley felt just a little self-conscious
in her medium-heeled sandals and knee-length, burnt-orange
dress.

“Don’t let her smile fool you,” Ron warned
her as they walked into his office, Nikki trailing behind them.
“Nikki runs my office with an iron hand. I don’t know what I’d do
without her.”

“A paid package to the Bahamas every year
would guarantee my undying loyalty,” the secretary offered with a
straight face, then turned to Ashley. “It’s nice to finally meet
you, Ms. Fitzgerald. I love your work and hope to own an original
some day.”

“Call me Ashley. And anyone with such great
taste in art deserves a paid leave to the Bahamas,” she added with
a wink.

The woman laughed. “I think you and I are
going to be great allies. Call me Nikki, please.” They exchanged
the easy smile of new friends, then Nikki turned to Ron who’d been
busy sifting through his mail. “Satchel called.”

He looked up. “Are they here already?”

“Not yet, but he said they’d be here by
eleven.”

He looked at his watch. “That’s fine. We
won’t be leaving until after eleven anyway.”

Ashley partially listened to their exchange
as she studied the abstract paintings in Ron’s office. It was a
spacious room, with two couches and a coffee table at the west
corner, and a workstation near shelves of leather-bound books a few
feet from his large, mahogany desk. Like in his home, he favored
hunter green and tan in his décor.

She waited until Nicole left the office
before she approached his desk. “You have a meeting at eleven?”

He smiled. “No.” He threw some of the letters
in a brief case and closed it, then walked around the desk. “Uncle
Gregory is sending the company jet for us. Satchel is the
pilot.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know whether to be impressed
or worried. From what Ron had told her, Gregory Neumann wasn’t the
most accommodating man in the world.

Ron took her hand in his and reached for the
case with the other. “Let’s go. We don’t want you to be late for
your meeting with the museum president.”