Passionate Pregnancies: Enticed by His Forgotten Lover / Wanted by Her Lost Love / Tempted by Her Innocent Kiss

She cast him a puzzled look.

“That’s your car?” he asked.

She looked toward the MINI Cooper and nodded. “Is something wrong?”

“You expect to fit me and the luggage in this tin can?”

“Quit being so grumpy,” she said mildly. “We’ll manage. It does have a luggage rack. I’m sure I have a bungee cord in the trunk.”

“Who the hell carries around bungee cords?”

She laughed. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

They filled the trunk and then piled suitcases into the back until the bags were stacked to the roof of the car.

“There,” she said triumphantly as she shut the door. “We didn’t even have to use the bungee cords.”

“Unfortunately we didn’t push the passenger seat back before we stored all the luggage,” he said dryly.

Bryony winced when she saw him fold his legs to get into the front seat. His knees were pushed up into the dash and he didn’t look at all comfortable.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she got into the driver’s seat. “I wasn’t thinking. No one who ever rides in my car has such long legs.”

“How do you plan to drive the baby around after he or she is born?”

Bryony reversed out of the parking space and then drove toward the exit. “In a car seat, of course.”

“And where do you think the car seat will fit in here? Even if you crammed it in, if you got into a wreck, neither of you would likely survive. Someone could run right over you in this thing and probably not even realize it.”

“It’s what I have, Rafael. There’s not a lot I can do about it. Now let’s talk about something else.”

“How far of a drive is it?”

She sighed. “An hour to Galveston from the airport. Then we take a ferry to Moon Island. It’s about a half-hour ferry ride so we should be there in under two hours barring any traffic issues.”

It was a bad thing to say. Thirty minutes later, they were completely stalled on I-45. Bryony cursed under her breath as Rafael fidgeted in his seat. Or at least tried to fidget. He couldn’t move much and he looked as if he was ready to get out and walk. It would probably be faster since traffic hadn’t moved so much as an inch in the past five minutes.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she said when she saw him turn toward her. “We should have left my car at the airport. Yeah, I know that now, but really, traffic jams are a fact of life in Houston.”

A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “I was actually going to say it’s a good thing I went to the bathroom before we left the airport.”

She heaved a sigh. “Just be grateful you aren’t pregnant.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Want me to take over?”

She shook her head. “You’d never be able to drive with your knees jammed to your chin. Let’s find something to talk about. Music would just irritate me right now.”

He seemed to think for a moment and then he said, “Tell me what you do. I mean, do you work? You said you took care of your grandmother but I wasn’t sure if that was a fulltime task or not.”

Bryony smiled. “No. Mamaw is still quite self-sufficient. I wouldn’t say I take care of her as much as we take care of each other. She’s been sicker lately, though. As for what I do, I’m sort of a Jill of all trades. I do a little bit of everything. I’m the go-to gal on the island for whatever needs doing.”

He looked curiously at her.

“Basically I’m a consultant if you want a posh name for my job. I’m consulted on all manner of things, though nothing you’d probably think was legitimate,” she added with a laugh.

“You have me curious now. Just what exactly are some of the things you do?”

“One day a week I take care of the mayor’s correspondence. He’s an older gentleman, and he’s not fond of computers. Or the internet for that matter. He likes old-school things like actual newspapers, print magazines, watching the news on the local channel instead of surfing to CNN. That sort of thing. He doesn’t even have cable if you can believe it.”

“And this guy got elected?”

Bryony laughed. “I think you’ll find that our island is pretty tolerant of being old-fashioned. It’s a bit of a throwback. While you can certainly avail yourself of all the modern conveniences such as internet, cable TV and the like, a large percentage of our population is quite happy in their technology-challenged world.”

Rafael shook his head. “I’m shuddering as you speak. How can anyone be happy living in the Dark Ages?”

“Oh, please. You enjoyed it well enough yourself once I finally weaned you off your BlackBerry and your laptop. You went a whole week without using either. A week!”

“Surely a record,” he muttered.

“Oh, look, traffic is moving!”

She put the MINI Cooper into gear as cars began to crawl forward. She checked her watch to see that they’d already lost an hour; it would be close to dark by the time they arrived on the island.

Still, the delay couldn’t dim her excitement. It was foolish of her to get her hopes up, but she wanted so badly to relive her time with Rafael on the island. Take him through all the steps they’d taken before.

She wanted him to remember. Because if he didn’t, things would never be the same for them. He’d resisted the idea of being with her. Her only hope was for him to remember and then …

Then just as she’d told him the night before, she’d forever have to live with the fact that at least some part of him recoiled at the idea of them being lovers.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

She grimaced as she navigated her way down the interstate. “They aren’t worth that much.”

“Then don’t think them.”

To her surprise, he leaned over, curled his hand around her nape and massaged lightly, threading his fingers through her thick hair. It was tempting to close her eyes and lean her head all the way back but then they’d have a wreck and never get off this damn interstate.

“I’m nervous, Rafael,” she admitted.

She bit her lip, wondering if she shouldn’t just shut up, but she’d always had this habit of being completely honest. It wasn’t in her makeup to shy away from the bald truth, no matter how uncomfortable. She always figured if people talked more about their issues then there wouldn’t be so many issues.

Rafael—the old Rafael—hadn’t minded her speaking her mind. They’d enjoyed long conversations and she’d always told him what was occupying her thoughts.

But now, she had a newfound reservation against being so forthright. She hated feeling so unsure of herself.

“Why are you nervous?” he asked softly.

“You. Me. Us. What if this doesn’t work? I feel like this is my only chance and that if you don’t remember, I’ve lost you.”