Bride in Trouble

by Serenity Woods

  Rafe nodded and swallowed hard. Nobody was going to be able to reassure him that his fiancée would remember who he was today, tomorrow, or in six months’ time. Or ever. Jesus. How was he going to deal with that?

  “Until then,” Noelle said, “I don’t think we should tell her about what happened with her father.”

  Rafe exchanged a look with Elliot and the girls, then brought his gaze back to Phoebe’s mother. “You want me to lie to her?”

  “I would just like you to avoid giving her the details as long as you can. You know what kind of effect it had on her last time. Let’s try to put that off for a while and let her heal.”

  His stomach churned uneasily. He had no secrets from his fiancée, and the notion of keeping things from her didn’t sit well, even if Noelle thought it was for her benefit.

  “How long is she going to have to stay in hospital?” Elliot asked.

  “The doctor wants her to stay tonight, and then he’ll see how she’s feeling tomorrow. Providing her headaches are manageable, he said there’s no real reason she can’t go home to recover. They need the beds, I think, and she’s out of immediate danger. But she’ll have to have regular checkups with our GP for a while.”

  “Are you going to call off the wedding?” Roberta asked.

  Rafe went cold. He hadn’t even thought about it.

  Elliot cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about that later.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Noelle said softly. “I’d like Phoebe to come and stay with me for a while.”

  Rafe’s heart skipped a beat, then gave a big thump against his ribs. “All her stuff is at the house,” he said. “And if it’s going to help to remind her of the memories she’s lost, wouldn’t it make sense for her to be in the place she’s lived for the last six months?”

  “She’s going to need a certain amount of physical care,” Noelle said. “You’re not going to be able to take too much time off work.” Her gaze was steady, her voice firm.

  “I have four days off now,” he snapped. “Her place is with me.”

  “She doesn’t remember you,” Noelle said. “You’re a stranger to her. She needs her family around her right now.”

  His hands had tightened into fists without him realizing. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and linked his fingers, trying to relax. He liked Noelle, had found in her the mother he’d lost when he was a little boy. She was ten times the woman his stepmother was. He didn’t want to be rude or disrespectful. But at that moment, he felt as if they were two captains in Star Trek, brought onto one ship. Who had authority here? Noelle was Phoebe’s mother, but he was her fiancé. Even if Phoebe didn’t remember him, that ought to earn him some points, surely?

  And yet, he wasn’t her husband, not yet. Noelle was right; to Phoebe, he was a stranger.

  But that didn’t mean he was going to roll over and give in. His jaw was knotted so hard that his teeth hurt. “She’s coming home with me,” he said flatly.

  “Maybe we should let Phoebe decide,” Bianca said.

  Rafe glanced at her. That made sense, except… he was afraid that Phoebe wouldn’t choose him.

  “She wanted to talk to you.” Noelle’s expression softened. “When she wakes. Why don’t you spend some time with her? Bianca’s right; it makes sense to let her choose. If she says she wants to stay with you, I won’t argue, I promise. I only want what’s best for her.”

  Rafe nodded and got to his feet. “I’ll sit in with her so someone’s with her when she wakes up.”

  Noelle stood too. “You’ve been amazing, sweetheart. I’m so glad she’s got you. Whatever happens with her memory, she’s still the same woman you fell in love with.”

  But was she? Noelle had mentioned personality changes as one possible effect of Phoebe’s injury. Jesus. He couldn’t process this right now.

  “We’d better get back to the shop,” Roberta said to her sister. “Libby’s been great, but there are deliveries and stuff we need to check on.”

  Bianca nodded, and the two women said goodbye and left. “I’ll take you home if you like,” Elliot said to his mother. “I can always bring you back later if you want.”

  Noelle picked up her purse. “Okay. I could do with a few hours’ sleep and a shower.” She stopped by Rafe. “Take it slowly with her, eh?”

  “I will.” He nodded at Elliot, and watched the two of them walk away.

  After fetching himself a soda from the vending machine in the foyer, he took it into Phoebe’s room. She was still asleep.

  He looked down at her for a long moment, tempted to lean forward and press his lips to hers. His heart ached at the memory of the argument they’d had before she’d walked out. He hadn’t told anyone about it. He’d regretted it as soon as she’d left, and after the police had visited, he’d felt sick at the thought that he might never be able to apologize.

  There was no point in apologizing now, not when she couldn’t remember it. Maybe that was the silver lining to this thick gray cloud. In a way, he had a second chance to make this right before she remembered what had happened.

  If she remembered.

  Sighing, he sat in the chair under the window, and waited for her to wake up.

  Chapter Three

  This time when Phoebe opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Rafe Masters sitting in a chair beneath the window. She blinked a few times, then realized she wasn’t dreaming and he really was there, watching her.

  Her first thought was that it was creepy for a stranger to watch her sleep. Then she reminded herself that, in his eyes, she wasn’t a stranger. This man was her fiancé. She’d agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. To share herself with him in every possible way.

  Holy moly.

  He gave a small smile. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Better.” Her headache had shrunk to a dull throb, and she ached less than she had when she’d first woken up that morning.

  For a moment, though, she didn’t move, just lay there studying him. The door was open, and she could hear the sounds of the hospital outside, nurses calling to one another, beds being wheeled, people coming and going. But in her room, it was quiet, and she welcomed the chance to let her body adjust to being awake, and to take the opportunity to examine this man in more detail.

  Rafe bore her scrutiny patiently, not seeming to mind as her gaze slid down him, taking in the smaller details now they were alone. He really was extremely good looking. He hadn’t shaved for a few days, and stubble darkened his jaw. He had a straight nose and the brightest blue eyes that held a wicked twinkle. He sat leaning back in the chair, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, knees wide the way all men sit. The denim stretched tight over impressive thighs.

  Her gaze returned to his face. His small smile had reappeared.

  “You need to brush your hair,” she said.

  He gave a short laugh and extracted a hand to run through it. “Yeah, well, when your fiancée is at death’s door, bringing a hair brush is the last thing on your mind.”

  “Mum told me you sat here for thirty hours straight,” she said softly. “You refused to leave.”

  He shrugged. “And then I missed you waking up.” He rolled his eyes.

  “I think it was probably for the best. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

  “I doubt that,” he said. “You look gorgeous.”

  She snorted. “Even with the mummified bandages?”

  “Even with.”

  He seemed serious. She didn’t know what to say to that. If he’d been a stranger, she would have criticized him for cheesy chat up lines. But he wasn’t. How on earth was she going to handle this?

  “Where’s your ring?” he asked.

  “What ring?”

  “Your engagement ring.”

  She blinked.

  “They must have taken it off you when they brought you in.” He got up, opened the drawer beside her bed, and took out a small purse which was p
resumably hers. She watched him open it, biting her lip at the urge to complain as this stranger rifled through her things.

  “Here it is.” He took out a ring and offered it to her on his palm.

  She stared at it.

  He lowered his hand slowly. “Shit,” he said, “I didn’t think. You don’t remember it. I’m sorry. You don’t have to wear it.”

  “No, it’s okay.” She reached out and took it from his palm.

  The plain gold band was topped by seven shimmering diamonds in a Lotus shape. The total diamond weight must have been well over a carat.

  “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, turning it around in her fingers.

  “Got it out of a Christmas cracker,” he said.

  “No you did not,” she scolded, throwing him a wry look. “This must be worth a fortune. How much did it cost?”

  “You’re not supposed to ask me that.”

  She’d heard that an engagement ring should cost two months’ wages. She had no idea what he did for a living, but, unless he was very rich, she suspected that was a vast understatement.

  She slid it on her ring finger. It fit perfectly, although it felt alien. She could remember as a teen going through her mother’s rings with her sisters, trying them on and imagining what it would be like to wear her own one day, and now she really was getting married.

  Holy shit. She wasn’t going to think about it right now.

  “Where’s everyone else?” she asked.

  “Your sisters have gone back to the shop. Elliot’s taken your mum home for a sleep and a shower. She’ll be back later. I don’t know if you remember, but the doctor said it’s good to talk about missing memories, to help encourage them back again.”

  “I remember.”

  “So, I thought you might want to chat for a while. How are you feeling? Fancy breaking out?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Of the hospital? The doctor said I should stay another night.”

  “Nah. I meant down to the cafe for a latte.”

  She realized she wanted a coffee more than anything else in the world. “I’d love one.”

  “Come on, then.” He got to his feet and came around the bed as she sat up. “Do you want me to get a wheelchair?”

  “No, no, I can walk.” Someone had left a pair of ballet slippers by the side of the bed, and she slipped her feet into them. “Um… do I look presentable?” She was only wearing the T-shirt and track pants. She didn’t even have a bra on underneath.

  “You look great.” He offered her his arm.

  Phoebe stared at him. He looked taller and bigger standing right next to her. She’d been dating this man, had pledged to spend the rest of her life with him. This was so weird. She glanced up, and a tingle ran down her back as his blue eyes looked into hers. The poor guy. It wasn’t his fault that she didn’t know him from Adam.

  “Just so you don’t fall over,” he said, gesturing with his arm again.

  She took it, saying nothing, and together they left the room. She tried not to squeeze his biceps as they walked along the corridor.

  “Feeling all right?” he asked. “Not dizzy or anything?”

  “No. I’m okay.” She was a little light-headed and weak, and her head still throbbed, but she had the feeling she’d been very lucky. A car had driven into her; she really could have been in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

  They got to the elevator, went in, and he pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors slid shut.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said as the carriage descended. “This must be awful for you.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know. But I feel… responsible, I suppose, for not being able to remember you. You must be so upset.”

  He studied his feet. “I admit it was a bit hard to hear.”

  “How long have we known each other?”

  “Just over two years. I asked your dad if I could marry you only a week before he died.”

  She felt a deep twist inside her at the reminder that she’d lost her father. She hadn’t dealt with it properly yet. She’d try to process that devastating information when she was alone, because she knew she was going to bawl her eyes out. “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” she admitted, her voice a little husky. “I feel as if I saw him yesterday.”

  “It was tough for you the first time, and it’s harsh that you have to grieve all over again. It’s a lot for you to deal with, on top of the accident.”

  The doors slid open, and he led her out into the foyer and along the corridor.

  “That’s true,” she said, “but I have to count my blessings. I suppose I could have died in that accident. And I have a supportive family, which is more than many people have.”

  “And you have me,” he said, opening the door of the cafe, and standing back to let her through.

  She didn’t reply, slipping past him, conscious of her arm brushing his chest. Ohhh… this was so weird. Part of her wished her mother or sisters had stayed so that she didn’t have to be alone with him. But that was silly. He was her fiancé, and he deserved to spend some time with her, and to talk about where they went from here.

  “So, latte?” he asked, leading her across to a table.

  She sank into a chair gratefully. “Please.”

  “Would you like anything to eat?”

  Her stomach rumbled. “Sure. You choose me something.”

  She watched him for a moment as he went up to the cabinets, and then she glanced around the room, at the other customers. One was reading a newspaper; a couple were looking at mobile phones. Several others were studying tiny screens about the size of a large book. What were they? Mini laptops?

  Unease slid down her back like an ice cube. She felt like an alien who’d landed on an unfamiliar planet. She didn’t just have her own life to worry about; she had to find out what had been happening in the world in general. She’d missed so much! Jesus, where did she start?

  “You okay?” Rafe took the seat opposite her.

  She nodded, swallowing hard, breathing through the wave of panic. “Just thinking about how much I must have lost. Have there been any world wars? Any world-wide catastrophes?”

  “No, nothing like that. I’m going to have to brush up on my current events though, to bring you up to speed.” He smiled, then reached out a hand to cover hers when she didn’t return it. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it a step at a time. I’ll be here to help.”

  She looked at their hands for a moment, then sat back and withdrew hers.

  Rafe didn’t comment on it. He just blew out a breath. “It’s warm in here.” Grabbing hold of his hoodie by the back of the neck, he tugged it over his head.

  Phoebe watched as the gray tee he wore underneath rose with the hoodie, exposing a few inches of tanned skin, with an impressive ripple of stomach muscles. He dropped the hoodie and tugged the tee down, ran a hand through the hair that was still sticking up, and then grinned at the look on her face.

  “It’s all yours,” he said, brushing his fingers down himself and then flicking them toward her as if to say, Ta-da!

  Her face warmed. How on earth had she landed such a gorgeous guy? He drew the eyes of all the women in the room, although he seemed unaware of their gazes on him.

  “So, we’ve been engaged a year?” she clarified.

  “Yes.”

  She sucked her bottom lip for a moment, thinking about that tanned stomach, her gaze settling on his mouth. “And… we’ve been… intimate?” She lifted her gaze back to his.

  His lips curved up. “Once or twice.” The impish glint in his eyes told her it was a lot more than that. It didn’t surprise her. Why would anyone ever want to get out of bed if they were with this man?

  His gaze had slid to her mouth, and she knew he was thinking about kissing her, maybe even what she looked like naked. And yet she didn’t remember sleeping with him; she didn’t remember any intimate moments at all. As gorgeous
as he was, she shivered at the thought of undressing in front of a stranger. Had she had any one-night stands? Had she even slept with anyone else?

  “It’s so odd,” she whispered. “You imply I’m not a virgin, but I feel like one. Were you my first?”

  “No. You’d had two partners before me.” He spoke with confidence that she hadn’t kept any secrets from him.

  She’d shared herself in the most intimate way with two other men. Would she ever recall their faces?

  The waitress came over with their lattes, then returned with two plates of sandwiches. One had slices of roast beef; the other looked like it was all salad.

  She pulled the beef one toward her and took a big bite out of it.

  It was only once she’d swallowed it and went to take a second mouthful that she realized Rafe was staring at her.

  She stopped mid-bite and said, “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Rafe…”

  “That was mine. You’re vegetarian.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

  “No.”

  “I don’t eat meat anymore?”

  “Not for about ten months.”

  “Holy shit.” She stared at the sandwich, then shrugged and ate it. “I might as well make the most of the amnesia, then.”

  It was a flippant comment, but her heart raced. Not only did she not recognize Rafe, she didn’t recognize herself. This was like something out of a sci-fi movie.

  He looked at the salad sandwich, gave a little sigh, then took a bite.

  “Why am I vegetarian?” she asked, thinking how lovely the beef tasted.

  “You gave up meat when you started running. You said it sat for too long in the stomach.”

  “Do I run a lot?”

  He gave a short laugh that she wasn’t sure held a lot of humor. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “Mum said I was doing a triathlon.”

  “Yeah, next month.”

  “Jesus. It doesn’t sound like me. Did I have a personality transplant?”