With such instinct, with such pure strength as he knew Lilly possessed, the memories would not be much further behind.
And now, they might well be closer than ever before.
The house he owned in Hagerstown was located in one of the more historic parts of the city. It was two stories, brick, completely remodeled on the inside, with almost an acre of land heavily bordered by a hedge of tall evergreen shrubs.
Hitting the remote programmed into the handle of the motorcycle, Travis slowed down for the rising of the garage door, then pulled the bike inside. Lilly rode in beside him, shut the engine to her own, and waited.
The door behind them slid closed with a squeak of the rubber seal against the cement.
“Nice.” Pushing the kickstand into place, Lilly swung off the seat and pulled the helmet from her head as she looked around.
He knew what she saw beside the Jaguar sitting in the other bay. Travis Caine was wealthy, a man who worked with the most exclusive, the most powerful men and women on earth. His lifestyle reflected that. Beside the Jag sat a specially designed, security-upgraded Hummer. Beside that was another motorcycle, one known for its reputation of speed, power, and exclusivity. There were less than two hundred in the entire world.
“Very nice.” She didn’t touch it, not that Travis would have cared. The cycle had belonged to the first Travis Caine, as had the house, the vehicles, and the funds he lived on. Funds carefully monitored by the agency.
Travis was more interested in her shapely ass as she bent to look at the detailing of the hand-stitched seat.
“Would you like a drink?” He strode to the well-stocked bar on the other side of the garage. Hell, all he wanted to do was get her in the bedroom, and here he was, stuck, while she admired his bike rather than his dick. Wasn’t that just his luck?
“Shall we go in then?” Opening the door that led to the house, Travis entered ahead of her and made for the kitchen.
Marble floors led from the small garage foyer to the kitchen and dining room.
The damned place must have been an exercise for that first Travis Caine in how much money he could spend on a residence while keeping the outside so modest-looking.
Opening the refrigerator, he pulled two cold beers free and tossed a bottle across the room to Lilly, watching her closely.
She caught it, without thinking, then stared at the beer in confusion before lifting her gaze back at him. What he saw there made him want to curse. Confusion. Anger. Fear.
“You knew I’d catch it,” she whispered.
Unscrewing the cap with a deft twist, he tossed the metal disk to the counter before leaning against it casually.
He shrugged. “You like beer.”
“I detest beer.” Lilly stared at the bottle again, a bit surprised that her mouth was watering for the taste of it. Surprised that she actually wanted it.
“You learned to love it.” She watched him. “You told me once that until you had been forced to drink it, you hadn’t known how good it could taste.”
“And how was I forced to drink it?” Lilly sighed wearily.
He chuckled. “We were in Mexico. It was my beer or their water. You chose my beer.”
She just bet she had.
“Why was I there, Travis?” she asked, barely able to push the words past her lips. “Why wasn’t I home?”
No one else seemed willing to answer that question. Would he?
“It had something to do with what you saw the night your father was killed.”
Now, her surprise turned to shock.
She hadn’t expected him to answer her. She blinked back at him, wondering at the quiet expression on his face as he continued to watch her closely.
“What happened that night?” She didn’t remember it. The last thing she remembered was the party that night.