del Toro, only son and heir to Del Toro Oil, who’d come from Mexico to spy on their biggest rivals, Windsor Energy. Alex had created a false identity, lived for over a year in Maverick County posing as Alex Santiago and had used her as a pawn to extract information about her father’s successful oil business. The truth came to light after Alex was discovered alive and brought back to town. Concerned about his son’s health and hoping to help him recover from amnesia, Rodrigo del Toro revealed to the world Alex’s true identity and the real reason he’d come to Texas in the first place—to spy on Windsor Oil.
The burn of that betrayal still seared her with pain.
It didn’t matter that Alex couldn’t remember any of it. His amnesia didn’t make him any less guilty. Her father had never liked her choice of fiancé and he’d been right all along about Alex. That was the biggest crime. Her father, who’d been married and divorced four times, had better insight about Alex than she did.
What a fool she’d been.
She left three feet of pavement between them. “I really don’t want to do this.”
“I know. I appreciate your time.”
He came forward to wind his hand around hers and lead her to the passenger-side door. Her palms grew damp from his touch. His strength and power was always a big turn-on. How she’d loved him once.
A part of her was glad he had amnesia. A part of her wished she had it, too.
She stood by the open door. “Where are we going?”
His eyes were nearly black. When they made love, she would slowly sink into them. “You’ll see. I won’t harm you, Cara. I’m still the same Alex you knew.”
Not true. She didn’t argue with him though. She slipped into the leather seat and fastened her seat belt. Alex got behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot.
He was quiet on the drive. It was fine with her. She relaxed back against the seat and stared out the front window. For about three minutes. Then her gaze slid from the highway to his handsome face. His profile alone could sell magazines to millions of women. She forced her eyes back to the road.
Don’t remember his hands caressing your body. Don’t remember his mouth pressing yours. Don’t remember the scent of his hot skin when he was aroused and ready to make love to you.
Beautiful memories clicked away in her mind. Her head ached with them. She didn’t want to believe him a liar, user, fraud and spy. But he was all those things. And here she was, sitting beside him, giving him her time and using her father as the excuse to steal away with him.
Cara, you dumbass.
Alex made a right turn off the highway that led away from town. Storefronts and residential streets gave way to the open road. Tight muscles in her neck began to relax. Rolling her shoulders, her stiffness dropped away there, too. She came alive in the country. Across the flatlands, ranches came into view. Roadside wildflowers bursting with color sprouted up along the miles and miles of fences.
Alex hit the controls and the windows rolled all the way down. Gentle springtime breezes replaced the air-conditioning. Her hair blew into her eyes. She didn’t bother trying to fix the mass of blond whipping at her cheeks.
“Now, please close your eyes.”
“Why?”
A few strands of his black hair danced across his forehead as he smiled—a dashing-marauder kind of smile. “Because I asked you nicely.”
She didn’t want to do him any favors, but she’d agreed to this. One hour was all the time she would give him, and twenty of those minutes were already up. She closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” he said.
Those two softly spoken words squeezed tight inside her heart.
Not long after, he parked the car. “Keep them closed,” he said.
The swooshing of quiet waters drifted into her ears. Distant music played and her nostrils were hit with crisp fresh air. “For how long?”
“Until I tell you to open them.”
The driver’s-side door clicked closed and his footfalls grew louder as he approached her side. The door opened and his scent of woods and musk invaded her senses. His subtle cologne meant only for her, he would say, stirred her into restlessness. He brushed her body to help with the seat belt and snap, her heart, as well as her seat belt, were undone. She shifted in her seat.
“Won’t be long now,” he assured her, his melodic voice reaching her ears. It was the same tone he’d used when he told her he loved her. He was so near. So close. Her breath hitched in her throat and she swallowed.
He reached for her hand and helped her out of the car. “Careful, Cara.”
Darn it, she was trying to be. With him.
Under her heels, small stones and uneven ground kept her unsteady, but Alex’s firm grip wouldn’t allow her to fall. “I’d carry you if you’d let me.”
“Not even in your dreams. How much farther?”
“Almost there.”
A sinking ache in the pit of her stomach warned her that this wasn’t a good idea. The road they’d traveled, the scent in the air, the quietly rushing waters, gave credence to her rising suspicions.
The ground under her feet was softer now, her ankles tickled by fragrant wisps of flowers.
Alex stopped and announced, “You can open your eyes now.”
Her eyelids lifted. A beam of sunlight caressed a quiet river. She stood in a field of bluebonnets, the cushion under her feet. Alex took her shoulders and turned her around. She blinked and gazed out. Wooden stakes outlined the skeletal beginnings of a country house Alex had promised to build for her. Inside the house, in what was to be a dining room facing the river, a table was set for two with a floral centerpiece of ivy and gardenias. A quartet of musicians stood off to the side, playing Alex and Cara’s favorite songs.
She didn’t get it. Why had he brought her here? This was where Alex had proposed to her. From childhood, she’d loved this little patch of land where bluebonnets carpeted the banks of the river and mesquite trees grew tall and shady.
When Alex had been in the hospital recovering from his injuries, Cara spent time with him, trying to get him to remember her. Trying to revive his memory about the special love they’d shared. She’d told him of his beautiful marriage proposal and how it had filled her heart with joy. The way he’d proposed had shown her that he’d paid attention. He’d known what she loved. He’d known what little things made her happy.
She’d been desperate to rekindle his memory. She’d been desperate for him to remember their love. But that was back when Cara believed he was Alex Santiago and not a spy and a scoundrel.
Now, her gaze darted from the musicians, to the silver bucket of champagne standing at attention beside the table, to the material-backed Parsons chairs tied with lavender bows. Dozens of small stone planters filled with red roses and tall pillar candles were set around the entire would-be dining room. She’d never gone into detail like this. She’d never mentioned
