by Sakwa, Kim
“Are we going to eat, Montgomery?” she said after another moment, finally looking up at him from beneath her lashes.
He smiled. “Yeah, Marceau, there’s a porterhouse with your name on it.” He nudged her toward the table, thinking that maybe it really was better for now to not say anything. He could feel the connection between them; it was alive and strong. Option two, most definitely. Still, he worried that if she found out in the wrong way, this game they were playing could blow up in their faces.
Early the next morning, earlier than she’d risen in ages, Amanda took the stairs carefully, smiling as she held the railing with one hand and Zander in her other. She felt like a little girl at Christmas. Seriously. She had a house full of people now and it made her kind of giddy. She loved having everyone around, and they were around, like literally all the time.
It was still well before dawn, but she was getting tired of everyone doing so much for her, treating her like a fragile china doll. Not that she wasn’t grateful for their help, but she needed to be more in charge. Of her own life. Of everything. The oddest thing she’d felt lately was that even with her memory loss, something inside her still felt whole. She couldn’t explain it, and she’d tried.
In the kitchen, Amanda hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and sat with Zander on the sofa. As soon as she heard the machine sputter, she laid Zander in the bassinet and went for her first glorious cup of joe.
“Where’s Helen?”
Alexander watched Amanda finish pouring coffee, then reach for another mug. She turned with a conspiratorial grin. “I snuck away.”
Bloody hell, she was adorable. Alexander took the coffee Amanda held out for him. He meant to chastise her for being up and about with no help, like she should forever more be wrapped in cotton and protected, but her smile disarmed him. That and the fact that she was wearing pajama shorts and her beautiful long legs and prime rear end had been the first thing he’d seen when he walked in. Instead he took a large sip, placed the mug back on the counter, and asked her why she was up so early. It was barely five. She’d already brushed out her hair and put it up. She looked fresh faced and ridiculously gorgeous.
“I guess I’m starting to feel better,” Amanda told him. “My head’s clearer. I feel rested.” She shrugged. “And really, between Helen, Rosa, Sam, not to mention Stephen, Stan, and you there really isn’t much for me to do. It felt so good to wake up before everyone today, tend to Zander by myself, watch Callie sleep. Jeez, I even brushed my teeth and hair all without anyone standing over me like I’m going to break. Mentally or physically.”
Aside from the security detail outside, the house was still quiet and empty this early. It would be at least another thirty or so minutes before they’d have company.
“I got to come downstairs with Zander and start the coffee all by myself.” She grinned again. “The coffeemaker had just sputtered to a stop when I put him down in the bassinet. Are you usually here this early?”
She knew he came over every morning to visit with his brother, but normally she wouldn’t have seen them until later. He and Stephen usually talked business quietly between themselves. “I am,” Alexander answered. He wouldn’t miss checking on his family each morning for anything. Besides it being a luxury he’d lived without for so long, it seemed a necessity to his well-being. Taking over the estate next door made it terribly easy. “Would you like to go outside?” he asked. “It’s warm enough already.”
Amanda nodded. “I’ll grab the mugs.”
“I’ll get the boy.”
He lifted Zander from his bassinet and settled him against his chest. As he started for the French doors, Amanda stopped him. “Wait.” He turned around. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
Alexander smiled down at her, shook his head, and told her that breakfast was in an hour, just like every day. He turned toward the doors again then almost knocked her over when he turned back to ask if she was hungry. He quickly reached out to steady her, but the only thing he could do with Zander in his arms was grasp her shirt. The material twisted in his hand, so he brought her closer and waited until she found solid purchase. This seemed to be happening often lately, and he couldn’t say he was upset about it.
She stared at him, still holding their mugs steady, her head tilting slightly to the side. He waited, hoping perhaps she was remembering something. She looked at him so closely. Come on, sweetheart, you’ve got this, I love you, you’re my wife, we have two beautiful children, and I crossed centuries to be with you. She finally shook her head, as if to clear it.
“Am I what?” she asked.
He smiled down at her. It took him a moment to remember just what it was he had asked her. “Hungry?”
“Why? You gonna cook me breakfast?” she teased.
His hand still fisted in her shirt, he brought her in a bit closer, and got right in her beautiful face. “I would hunt—kill—skin, clean, and cook for you.”
“Bloody hell, Montgomery, why have we been going to the grocery store?” she whispered.
“You haven’t answered my question, sweetheart.”
Her eyes widened and she blushed adorably. “What did you ask me?”
“Are you hungry?” he reminded her.
She shook her head. “Coffee’s good for now.” This time she motioned for the French doors that led to the terrace.
They settled on the sofa. Alexander took up a considerable amount of space at one end, stretched out his legs, and adjusted Zander. Amanda leaned back against the cushions on the other and pushed her feet beneath the cushion next to him.
“So, Mr. Montgomery. How did you end up in the security business?”
Because I couldn’t find you. “Military background. Like most.”
“Great Britain?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you miss it?”
“Great Britain?”
Amanda laughed. “Yeah, Great Britain.”
He shook his head. “No, Amanda. I don’t.” Bloody hell, he never wanted to set foot on British soil again.
“I don’t know why, but it scares me.”
She’d said that so quietly. He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Britain?” he asked, to clarify.
“Yeah, Britain.”
“How?” Because he absolutely knew why.
“You’ll think I’m crazy…but…I feel like I left the biggest piece of me there. I mean we used to go all the time, but for some reason now…I feel like I…I…despise it.”
“Not crazy, sweetheart.”
Evan walked outside. “Well, good morning. I see we’re all up before the rooster crows.”
“Morning, Evan,” Amanda told him brightly. Then she whispered she was going to tell Evan that she was going to shave her head and join the circus.
Alexander chuckled as he looked at the face of his watch, then said, “Why don’t I give you some time together? It’s still well before breakfast.” He stood and reached for Zander then made his way back inside. He turned after he’d closed the terrace door, watching as his wife closed her eyes and began her session with Evan.
Amanda smiled as she walked outside, marveling again at just how content she felt, despite all that had befallen her. After another large family dinner alfresco earlier this evening, she’d found Callie standing on top of the stones by the fountain, singing as she hopped from one large boulder to the next, all the adults serving as her audience. Stephen and Sam were laughing as she belted out A Great Big World’s “Rockstar.” Alex was leaning against the balustrade, sipping a scotch. She noticed he liked the Macallan she had in endless supply behind the bar. It suited him. The sun was just starting to set, and she’d just approached the balustrade when Alex reached his long arm out and touched her. She stopped by his side, seeing he had a perfect view of Callie, still singing but now jumping to the ledge of the fountain.
“I was
thinking of taking a walk on the beach. Game?” she asked.
“Undoubtedly.” He reached out and fixed her hood. She wasn’t sure it needed fixing, but the man had a penchant for physical contact. He had uber large hands that were actually very gentle. Each time she stood in front of him lately, she’d noticed that he touched her. Brushed her hair back, fixed her collar, steadied her. “Is something bothering you?” he asked.
He was also perceptive. She didn’t want to say what was bothering her. Because what was bothering her was that she really enjoyed his company. She liked having him around. Yes, she liked having everyone around, but him most of all. The worry, however, that had been slowly creeping through her thoughts, more so that evening, was that despite her feelings of contentedness at the moment, she worried it may end.
She’d talked to Evan about it. Like, how did she maintain this feeling of security when the last person she had a relationship or whatever with obviously left? When she didn’t even know if she could trust her own goddamned brain not to erase all her memories?
Beside her, Alex took another pull of scotch and offered it to her. She accepted the glass from his hand, considering its contents. “I think…” She tilted her head to the side, while he waited quietly. When nothing came to mind, she shrugged and took a small sip of the amber liquid. “I have four cases of the stuff and have no idea why.”
He smiled, nudged the glass, and called out to the others below that they were going to go down to the beach. Amanda took another sip of the scotch while Stephen grabbed a couple blankets from inside the ottoman and signaled to Michael they were all heading down.
Callie went ahead with Sam and Stephen while she and Alex followed at a slower pace, winding their way down the stairs toward the path. Dusk was well upon them, making it difficult to see pebbles and rough spots. She lost her footing at one point and Alex grasped her hand to hold her steady. Maybe it was the scotch talking, or just her own daring, but she latched her other hand through the belt loop of his jeans for support. After a second stumble, he stopped and knelt. “Up, sweetheart.” Gladly, she climbed on his back, wrapped her arms around his neck, and laid her chin on his shoulder as he carried her the rest of the way down.
Sam, Stephen, and Callie were still walking, but had left the blankets out not far from the path. Alex pulled a flask out of his back pocket and grinned. She laughed as he opened it, took a sip, and held it out in front of her. “Amanda,” Alex said once they’d arrived and he’d set her down on the beach. She waited for him to say more, but he just shook his head and gave her another of his deep, penetrating looks.
“Can you see that cluster of stars?” she asked after another long moment, pointing toward the sky.
“I can.”
“I can’t remember what it’s called. It’s right on the tip of my tongue but I just can’t retrieve it.” Which itself was really weird because Amanda didn’t think she’d ever been into constellations before. And it wasn’t like she was looking at the Big Dipper.
“Canis Major,” he said, knowing the answer right away.
Oh my god, he was right. “And that one?” she asked.
“Camelopardalis.”
He continued to name each one she pointed to, and when he stretched his arm and started naming even more constellations and stars, she had the most incredible feeling of déjà vu. His knowledge of astronomy was impressive. There was also something about the cadence of his voice that calmed her and made her feel safe. Who was she kidding, he made her feel safe. She loved listening to him. No matter what language he spoke. That, and his ridiculous British accent.
“How do you know so many?” she whispered.
“It was part of my studies,” he told her.
“What else did you study?”
“Astronomy covered a lot,” he laughed. “Physical science, mathematical law, philosophy. Latin.”
“You know Latin?” Amanda said, incredulous.
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“And then why astronomy?”
“I had to learn how to look up to the sky and know where I was. How the cycles of the moon would affect the tides.”
“Oh, of course—ships,” she said, smacking her palm to her forehead. Duh, he was an admiral. “Did you ever get caught in storms?”
“Often,” he said, chuckling at her gesture.
“Were you scared?”
“I didn’t have time to be. I had men depending on my knowledge and instincts to get them to port or safely home.”
She nodded. “Determined.”
“What about it?”
“It describes you perfectly.”
“I’m human, Amanda. I’ve had my moments.”
She laughed then. “I’m not so sure about that. Are you sure you’re not a superhero in disguise?”
He sighed. “Superheroes don’t always win, sweetheart.”
She shook her head. Vehemently. “They do, Alex. They might struggle and even seem to lose ground, but they always win. In the end, they always win.”
“Did you see Papa?” Callesandra asked sleepily when Amanda checked on her shortly after midnight. So stunned by Callie’s innocent question, Amanda pivoted her head as if she’d been struck. Papa? “Who, Callie?” Amanda asked to be sure she’d heard correctly.
Callie rolled over as she whispered, “The admiral, Mama.”
Alex? What had given Callie that idea, that he was her father? She supposed he had been around a lot, like all the time—and had been very affectionate with her daughter—but she’d never heard her call him “Papa” before. Poor thing, all of this must be so hard on her, too, her own mother barely remembering things. It’s no wonder that she’d cling to him. Didn’t she herself admit she’d latched on to him too?
Amanda sat down on the edge of Callie’s bed, her daughter still looking at her with her bright, earnest eyes. Eyes that Amanda had always loved, though she could never see herself in them. Suddenly, Amanda froze. Those eyes. Surely, they couldn’t be…no. Could they? Amanda let herself consider just for a moment—for a crazy, in-no-way-is-this-possible moment—that Callie wasn’t mistaken. That Mr. Mont—Alex was her father, her real one.
She rewound as far back as she could. The hospital. He’d written a check for her release, AMA, against medical advice. The way he’d touched her wrists, the reverent sweep of his thumbs as he brushed over her bruises, once he’d removed the restraints before his large hands clutched her. In the moment, she’d been so woozy she’d barely noticed, but now she could almost feel the caress and possessiveness of his grip as she pictured it. How he’d almost ripped the manacles from the bedrails that secured her ankles. Bloody hell, sweetheart, he’d said. I’m taking you home, Amanda. The way he’d held her in the truck on the ride back. Sure, she’d been under the influence of drugs and traumatized and exhausted, but he’d held her. On his lap. In his arms. She vaguely recalled now burrowing into his neck. Why had she done that? He’d rocked her. And she’d felt safe. Really safe. When she’d awoken at home that night, he’d been there, at her bedside. Holding Zander. Jesus, her son looked like him, too, same coloring, same hair. No wonder Alex was so easily affectionate with Callie and Zander. And no wonder Callie was so comfortable with him. Could it really be true? From the moment Amanda remembered meeting him, Callie had always called him Admir—then her mind whirled again as an image, barely a second’s worth, of Alex on the cliffs of Abersoch, windblown and reaching for her flashed through her mind—
“Mama? Did you?” Callie said again, jarring Amanda from her swirling thoughts. She pasted on a smile and brushed the hair from Callie’s face before kissing her brow. Yes, she had his eyes, Amanda realized again. How had she missed that before? Callie had an uncanny resemblance to her, people had always remarked on it, but the similarities stopped at her eyes. Looking at her now, something else crystallized in Amanda’s mind, causing her heart to break jus
t a little bit. Callie was not her biological daughter. Out of nowhere, she realized that was true. And yet she loved her like she was. It seemed crazy—Amanda had seen Callie’s birth certificate, her passport—but deep down Amanda knew Callie was not technically hers, sure as she knew anything else. In fact, six years ago was when she’d won her first Grammy. She could remember the awards circuit from then clearly. And she’d been dating someone who turned out to be a real jerk. She’d let herself forget all of that, but there was no denying it. Jesus, Callie even had that similar strange cadence to her speech that Alex had. How had she been so blind?
“I did, sweetie,” Amanda said, turning to Callie, keeping her voice light. “He just left.” She tucked the covers more tightly about her and kissed her precious little face again, realizing just how much she loved this child, his child. “I’ll see you in the morning, baby.”
As she leaned against the back of Callie’s bedroom door, reeling from too many thoughts and emotions to count, what she couldn’t fathom was why they hadn’t told her. None of them. Why? She’d seen movies and read novels where characters had amnesia, but not one had a scenario that included keeping that person in the dark. Unless they were trying to gaslight them. Or worse. Was something nefarious happening? She shivered, terrified for a moment. What else were they not telling her?
Callie’s innocent question spurred Amanda’s next move. In fact, a series of moves that would forever change her life as she’d known it—or at least as she thought she’d known it. Cue the gears moving in her head. Not a firm landing yet, or anything close, just another piece of the puzzle that belonged on the board but was still set to the side.
