I pushed to my feet and felt my way to the door, hands in front of me seeking walls. I jammed my big toe on the desk chair and swore. The impact radiated up my shin. I shoved the chair I didn’t remember leaving out back under the desk.
Thump, thump—
I fumbled with the lock and opened the door.
Nat’s eyes rounded like a cat caught off guard. She gasped, then the tension melted. “You’re here. Thank God.” Her gaze lowered and her eyes went buggy again. “You’re naked.” She slapped palms against my chest and pushed me back into the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
At the skin-on-skin contact, my brain woke up. So did my body.
“Nat,” I groaned, my arms going octopus around her. I pushed her against the wall and pressed my entire length against her. “You’re here.” You feel goddamn amazing. I kissed her hard. My hands roamed up her shirt and cupped her breasts. My hips rocked. I groaned again.
She gasped. “Carlos.”
“Right here.” I bit her neck.
“Ow. Carlos.” She smacked her hands on my shoulders.
Impatient devil, I thought with a growl. I fumbled with the fly of her jeans. She wedged a knee between us, right into my lower abs. “Oomph.”
She squirmed from my arms and moved out of reach. “What the hell, Carlos?” she fumed and flipped on the light.
“Gah!” I squeezed my eyes shut.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I squinted at her. She looked stinking mad, her face tomato red under the freckles, with her fists on her hips. She was so damn gorgeous and hot, and it was freaking wonderful to have the one person in the world I trusted to be here with me. It only made me more aroused.
“I’m on fire for you, Nat.” I motioned at my groin.
She scowled and looked at the messy bed. “Have you been asleep this whole time?”
“Uh . . .” I squeezed the back of my neck. My gaze darted to the bed, rumpled sheets heaped on the floor. “Yeah.”
Her nostrils flared. “You probably have to pee.”
At the mention of that bodily function, my bladder roared and arousal died.
“What happened to you?”
“I have to piss.” I flipped on the bathroom light and kicked shut the door.
“Brush your teeth, too,” she hollered. “You reek.”
I relieved myself, washed my hands, and splashed cold water on my face, hoping the chill dissipated the Tule fog condensing inside my head. I couldn’t think or focus. Then I brushed my teeth, twice, and slipped on boxers and a shirt before returning to Nat.
She had opened the curtain and turned on the air to circulate the room’s staleness. She’d also straightened the bed. The sheets were back on the mattress. She was now flipping through a small paper pad and looked up as I approached. She flipped the paper back in place.
“I’ve been beyond worried about you. I’ve been calling and texting since you hung up on me.”
My gaze jumped to the nightstand. “Where’s my phone?”
“Here.” She handed it to me. “I found it on the floor along with my gazillion unanswered texts and calls.”
I launched the screen, saw the queue of notifications, and tossed the phone on the desk. I sagged onto the chair. “I forgot to unsilence it before I crashed.”
“I doubt you would have heard them. You were sleeping like the dead. Do you know how long I banged on the door? Ten minutes,” she answered at my clueless expression.
I scrubbed my face, rough with stubble. “Sheesh, Nat.” I hated that I made her worry, and that she had to fly out here and check on me. “I’ll pay you back for your flight.”
Her eyes protruded and mouth pursed. I guess that remark annoyed her because she stomped to the window. She folded her arms and watched a plane come in for a landing. “God, Carlos, I love you but don’t scare me like that,” she said after the plane touched down on the runway. She swiped a finger under each eye.
I wanted to weep with her but figured I’d already disgraced myself enough in her presence. Horny bastard.
“Come here,” I said, opening my arms.
She curled on my lap and rested her head on my shoulder, tucking her face against my neck. Our arms went around each other and for a few moments, we just sat there. It was bliss.
“I’ll try not to scare you like that again.” It wasn’t a definitive promise considering I was terrified myself. I kissed her gently, hoping to reassure us both.
She shifted on my lap, settling deeper. “Don’t worry about my flight. I’d planned to fly into LA on Monday anyhow.”
I nibbled her ear. “What’s in LA?”
“The year’s Miss Malibu Pro. She lives in Santa Monica. Dad and I are meeting with her about licensing our new longboards.”
Miss Malibu Pro hosts a longboarding invitational. “The ones with Mari’s designs.”
“The very ones. But I don’t want to talk about that.” She leaned back in my arms and cradled my neck. Her thumbs caressed my jawbone. I heard, more than felt, the scratch of her skin on stubble. The line between her brows deepened. “What happened to you yesterday?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” My heart marathon raced with the admission.
“Amnesia can’t remember? Or, I-drank-too-much-and-blacked-out can’t remember?”
“The latter, but without the benefit of alcohol.” I gently squeezed her jean-clad thigh. “Thomas was waiting for me at the airport.”
Natalya’s mouth parted. “What? How?”
“Maybe my ID triggered a flag when I went through Customs.” She inhaled sharply and I kissed her nose. “Don’t worry. No one was there to arrest me. But Thomas was somehow notified I’d be there. I also think I’m being watched while I’m here.”
“Carlos.” She sounded alarmed.
“Thomas offered to show me around and meet up with old friends. He figured I came because I was curious about myself.”
“Which you are,” Natalya supplied.
“Yes, but I told him I wasn’t. He took me to lunch and . . .” I frowned, my thoughts turning inward as I tried to capture yesterday’s events. Some eluded me.
“And what?” Natalya’s fingers tapped the back of my neck to get my attention.
“Thomas didn’t tell Imelda and Aimee the whole story about James.” I then told Natalya, and when I finished, a mix of incredulity and distress marred her delicate features.
“My God, Carlos. You need to get back on the plane and get to your sons right now. Your life could be in danger.” Panic raised her voice with each word.
I gave my head a hard shake. “No, I don’t think it is. Phil is in prison and doesn’t know about me. As long as he and the Hidalgo cartel believe James is dead and Carlos can’t remember what happened, I’m of no value to anyone.”
“You are to me. And Julian and Marcus.”
“Yes, I know. But listen. There’s more. After lunch Thomas got a call. He had to swing by some warehouse before taking me to the hotel. I remember waiting in the car for him and then . . . and then . . .” My brows furrowed. “Then he was dropping me off at the hotel.”
“You can’t recall anything between waiting in the car and arriving at the hotel?”
I lifted Natalya off me and paced the room. “No. And my head hurts like a mother anytime I try to think of what happened.”
“Something did happen because you wrote about it.”
I stopped midstep. “I did?”
Her face took on a green hue as she flipped through the pad.