by Lauren Canan
When her fingers began to get pruny, she knew it was time to get out. After toweling dry, she slipped on the fluffy white robe. She found both a comb and a brush, plus a new toothbrush and some toothpaste in one of the drawers. Standing in front of the large mirror, she combed the tangles from her long dark hair.
As she looked at her reflection, a feeling of unease passed through her. Something was off. It was probably just the bruises and cut lip. She turned her face to the side. Maybe some swelling remained. “Stop it!” she muttered to her reflection. She had enough to worry about without adding to it.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Masters?” Roe called from the bedroom.
Excellent question. Placing the comb back in the drawer, Victoria headed to the bedroom. With the succulent smell of the food being wheeled into the room, she let the internal quandary go for now.
As good as the food looked and tasted, she did little more than sample a couple of the dishes. Her appetite had disappeared along with any positive hopes that coming here—coming home—would rekindle her memory. So far, all it had served to do was add more unknowns to the growing list. She felt tired and melancholy. Her husband’s earlier reaction to her inquiry about the name stirred apprehension. Everything she thought she would find here was still missing. In fact, she had an overwhelming sensation that she didn’t belong here. In this house. She couldn’t explain it, but the feeling was strong.
After the food cart had been removed, she found a clean nightgown, pulled back the covers and sat down on the bed. She really should call her mother. Even though she didn’t remember her.
Finding the number written on a sticky note, she placed the call.
“Hello?” a woman answered.
“Hi, Mom. Mother.” What did she call her? “It’s me, Victoria.” There was an obvious pause on the other end.
“Oh, my dear. You don’t sound at all like yourself. Are you still in the hospital?”
“No. No, I’m at home.”
Another pause. “Are you telling me that man dumped you off at his house and left? That might be a cause of action for abandonment or mental distress. You really should speak with Burt as soon as possible.”
What was she talking about? “Uh...Wade has been with me the entire time. He’s still here.”
“Oh. Well, we will just have to think of something else. Sooner or later Wade Masters will screw up and he’ll pay for it dearly, if you get my drift. If you can find a private moment, it wouldn’t hurt to call Burt anyway. Maybe he can think of another angle.”
An angle? For what? “Who’s Burt?”
“Why, your attorney. How could you not remember him? Do you really have amnesia? Wade said you couldn’t remember anything. You’re making me nervous, Victoria. You need to get over this memory thing before you say or do something that Wade will use to boot you out the door. Call Burt’s office. He needs the information on the driver who hit you, his insurance and such. Look, sweetheart, I really must go. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Uh...okay.” And before Victoria could make sense of any part of the conversation, the line went dead. How odd. Not once had her mother inquired as to how she was feeling. And all that about calling an attorney. What was that? She had no info about the accident and had assumed Wade would take care of it.
She hung up and eased into bed. It felt good to lie down. The silk sheets were amazing, the mattress and pillows so soft, especially compared to the bed at the hospital. Her vision again fell on the painting above the mantel. What was it about the painting that called to her? Surely Wade would know. But was it somehow related to what had caused his hostile reaction earlier?
She still had the dull throbbing in her head, though it wasn’t bad enough to get up and take one of the pills Dr. Meadows had prescribed. She didn’t know if it was caused by the accident, being in this strange unwelcoming monstrosity of a house, or Wade’s show of anger and the anxiety she’d felt at his reaction. But neither the bath nor putting some food in her stomach had eased the pain totally. Maybe when she woke up everything would be back to normal.
Whatever normal was.
Three
Wadding another piece of printer paper into a tight ball, Wade tossed it against the far wall with the idea of bouncing it into the trash can below. There were significantly more small white balls on the floor than in the basket. He didn’t care.
She could bloody well remember the name of one of her lovers but not her husband? That was a hell of a thing to admit. His irrational irritation continued to mount as he sat at his desk, trying to drum up sufficient enthusiasm to concentrate on the work in front of him.
Of course, she wasn’t really his wife in the biblical sense. And considering their history, he really shouldn’t be surprised or affected either way. But she had drawn him in with the sweet, innocent act, then waylaid him when he wasn’t expecting it. One minute she seemed so innocuous...so...not Victoria. Those lilac-blue eyes—which had never seemed so blue—radiated such warmth, need and an almost childlike innocence. She’d silently implored him to help her. Then in the blink of an eye she was dredging up memories of some man. It was Victoria at her best. He snatched another sheet of paper from the printer tray. If ex-lovers were what it took to help her memory return, they definitely had a problem. He didn’t know all their names, and he didn’t care. But they were not going to visit her here. Just the thought of it had him again gritting his teeth. Another ball sailed through the air. Another miss.
He ran a hand over his mouth, sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. This entire situation had begun as one of those Why didn’t I think of this before? ridiculously brilliant ideas. Or so it had seemed at the time. Victoria’s father had given her a taste of high society before he lost everything by making foolish moves in commodities trading. Even when she had been poor as a church mouse, she had continued to maintain the facade of wealth and privilege, which was exactly what Wade had needed: a beautiful woman who knew how to dress and function skillfully at social gatherings, and who epitomized a billionaire’s wife. In that regard, Victoria was exceptional. She could even do happy if he pressed her on it. What she couldn’t do was discretion. He’d soon discovered Victoria didn’t know the meaning of the word.
Wade had long ago stopped longing for a wife, someone he could love, trust and raise a family with. Twice he’d fallen for a woman who had seemed so sincere, so earnest, only to learn it was all a ploy to gain money. After the last time, he’d called an end to it all. Bitter and discouraged, he refused to again put his heart on the chopping block.
Now, because of the accident, it was as though Victoria had a complete change of personality. And apparently that change had a far-reaching effect, because he’d sure been snagged and reeled in. It seemed that, in the blink of an eye, she’d gone from a wife-in-name-only with a cardboard persona to a three-dimensional woman he found extremely hard to resist. He knew an illogical desire to be near her, to be with her and protect her. His mind raced to curb visions of him holding her close through the night. It was crazy. A mere three weeks ago, the last time he’d been in Dallas, he couldn’t stand the sight of her.
How could he never have noticed how slender she was, how tiny her waist? How perfectly her breasts suited the other contours of her body? When she’d walked around her suite, her hips swayed enticingly, something he should have noted long ago. Had her lips always been so full and luscious? He’d never been physically attracted to her in the past. Yet the thought of her lying in his bed gave him insane ideas of forgetting all about the parameters of their previous relationship and making love to her with such wild abandon it would cause her to forget the names of her lovers and cry out his name instead. Such notions had never entered his mind in the almost five years he’d known her. Why now? Hell, maybe he was the one who needed to see a doctor. He crinkled another sheet of paper in his hand before it joined the others on the floor.
&nbs
p; He had to get a grip. Such thoughts were completely ridiculous—outrageous and totally inappropriate under the circumstances. She’d just come from the hospital. Still, when their eyes had met in the private hospital room, for the first time he’d seen honest emotion there, something he hadn’t thought the woman capable of. And against all reason, his body had responded. Then today, in the limo, he’d encountered her sense of humor. Who knew hidden away under all the glamour and glibness Victoria Wellington Masters actually had a sense of humor?
He couldn’t explain why he suddenly wanted to be close to her. He couldn’t rationalize it, but he had to accept the reality of it. That was half the battle. A man couldn’t fight something until he acknowledged its existence. So, okay. Fine. He now found something about her appealing. Quite a few things, in fact. Heaven help him. But he would not give in to this insanity or be suckered into her little games. Despite the way his body reacted every time they came close enough for him to inhale her scent, in spite of his eyes being drawn to her full, enticing lips and the delicate features of her face, he would bide his time, keep those lunatic feelings to himself until she was fully healed, at which time she would be escorted out the door. And all this would be nothing but a bizarre memory.
He wouldn’t ask her to leave, certainly not until she’d fully recovered, even at the cost of his sanity. But he damn sure wouldn’t lay himself open to becoming involved with Victoria. His face was already hitting the front page of the tabloids, the kind that exploited the secrets of the rich and famous. Headlines like Does Her Husband Know About the Other Men? or Who’s Been Sleeping in Victoria’s Bed—Lately? were a dime a dozen. Victoria had sworn she was dating only one man. She had been making an earnest attempt to keep their affair under wraps. Perhaps the tabloids were pulling from old photos. Though it was hard, maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt.
She kept an apartment in North Dallas. He didn’t know the location but imagined it would be easy enough to find. If returning to familiar surroundings would help her memory, they would definitely make a trip there. Add it to the top of the list. She’d never stayed in this house more than it was necessary to keep up appearances. She’d never shared his bed. There had never been anything about her that had tempted him to want to get closer. Until the damn accident. The sooner she regained her memory and signed those divorce papers, the better.
Pushing the work aside, Wade grabbed the phone, dialing his attorney’s private line before settling back in the black leather chair.
“Wade.” The voice on the other end held surprise. “What’s going on?”
“I think we may have a problem.”
An hour later, Wade hung up. He’d been right. There was no way a document signed by a person with confirmed amnesia would hold up in court. He had no choice but to wait it out and hope her mind righted itself quickly. Hell, that was a scary thought. At least she wouldn’t be going out in public anytime soon, so his main worry was leashed for the time being.
Wade booted the computer and waited for his mail server to appear. He might as well try and get something done. When her memory returned, he intended to be waiting, documents in hand.
* * *
Victoria tossed and turned and plumped her pillow, and still sleep refused to return. The clock on the nightstand said 2:40 a.m., some twenty minutes later than the last time she’d looked. She sat up, knowing she wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. More than likely it was due to the strange surroundings—even though they shouldn’t be strange to her.
Throwing back the covers, she swung her feet over the edge of the mattress and stood up. Opening the French doors leading onto the terrace, she stepped out into the warm night air. She immediately heard the sound of water spilling over rocks. Soft, diffused light filtered through the trees and highlighted a water feature. Leaning over the railing, she spotted the huge waterfall and a rock-lined stream that wound through trees and out of sight. What castle would be complete without a waterfall? And what had Wade done with the moat?
The soft floral scent of roses mixed with lavender reached her on the light evening breeze. She would have to go down and explore in the daylight. But she didn’t see any chairs or other places to sit in the manicured garden below. Wade needed to get a bench so they or their visitors could sit outside and enjoy the beauty.
A fast knock on the door to her suite pulled her attention away from the calming scene. She headed back inside and was halfway across the bedroom when the door opened. Wade stood in the doorway, his dark hair tousled as though he’d been running his hand through it. He wore sweats and a baggy top that revealed signs of moisture, as if he’d been working out. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, underscoring the fatigue that showed in his eyes. Behind him, two of his security staff stood poised and ready for anything that might go wrong.
Upon seeing her, Wade visibly relaxed.
“Were you just outside?”
“Yes. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I stepped out onto the terrace.” She frowned. “Was I not supposed to?”
“No, it’s fine,” Wade assured her, rubbing the back of his neck. “All the outside doors and windows have silent alarms that are activated overnight. In future, please call security and let them know your intent so they don’t see it as a break-in. Just hit pound six on the landline phone.”
“Oh...okay.” She glanced past Wade’s broad shoulders at the two men. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know or, if I knew, I didn’t remember.”
They smiled and nodded. “That’s not a problem, ma’am.”
When her gaze returned to Wade, that look of surprise was back on his face.
“You seem to be feeling better,” Wade pointed out as the two security men left.
So do you, she thought. At least as far as his attitude went. “I am. I just wish my mind would catch up with the rest of me.”
“I’m confident it will in time.”
“I was looking at your garden.” She pointed toward the French doors. “Below the balcony? It’s beautiful. The sound of the water falling over the rocks is so relaxing. But I didn’t see a bench or any place to sit.”
Wade readjusted his stance. “A bench? No one ever goes back to that area.”
“Maybe it’s because there’s no place for them to sit.”
He looked dumbfounded. “I suppose that’s possible.”
She shrugged. “Why have the flowers and the waterfall if no one ever sees them?”
He stared at her like he’d never seen her before. As though she was an apparition and he didn’t quite know what to do about it.
“Yes. I...see your point.”
But he was frowning.
The character lines framing his mouth were tantalizing. She’d bet he had an awesome smile—so far, she’d caught only slight glimpses of it. She would love to run her hands over those indentations and kiss his full lips. He would be a great kisser. She didn’t know if it was a memory or female intuition, but she knew it all the way to her core. A vortex of heat suddenly surrounded her, making her breath shallow and her heart rate speed up considerably.
“Well, um, I’m sorry I triggered the alarm. I’ll do my best to remember to call the next time.” She needed him to leave so she could turn on a fan.
“Not a problem.” For countless seconds he stood in the same place, just watching her, as if his feet wouldn’t obey his command to leave. Then his brain must have repaired the connection, because he blinked, shook his head slightly and turned toward the door. “Have a good evening.”
“Wow,” Victoria muttered to the empty room when he was gone. She had no idea where she’d found him, but at the moment, despite his earlier anger, she was very glad she had. He still didn’t act like a husband in love with his wife. Maybe it was a case of him not knowing what he should or shouldn’t do regarding her injuries. Surely, as they became reacquainted, that would change.
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* * *
The morning light sifted into the room through the sheers drawn across the floor-to-ceiling window. Slowly Victoria stretched, yawned and sat up. Tired of robes and hospital gowns, she wanted her jeans and a comfortable shirt. In the closet she found some designer stretch jeans. No T-shirts, but an ample selection of blouses to choose from. Unfortunately, all the shoes and boots appeared to have four-or five-inch heels. Ugh. She wasn’t up to that and, really, she shouldn’t have to wear such things in her own house. She’d just go barefoot. The decision felt right. After securing her long hair in a ponytail, she ventured into the hall and paused, trying to decide which way to go.
The garden. She’d see if she could find it. She elected to take the stairs instead of the elevator. The grand circular stairway ended in the foyer. Maintaining her sense of direction, she turned and walked toward the back of the house. Surely there was a back door.
And there was. It opened at her touch, and she stepped outside into the morning light. Just ahead of her was a huge pool with a hot tub. It was surrounded by natural stone, banana trees and other exotic plants, which gave it a tropical feel. To the left was the huge waterfall, with more tropical ferns and plants growing at its base. Following her instincts, she rounded a corner of the mansion, and there it was: a floral garden set into an alcove.
It was even better from here than from the terrace. Peeking into the water that formed a stream at the base of the falls, she spotted beautiful gold, red and white fish. She didn’t know how she knew, but these were koi. She knelt down on the thick grass and watched them with delight. Between the concentrated scents of various flowers and the roar of the waterfall, she felt more relaxed than she had since leaving the hospital. Stretching out on the luscious lawn under the rays of the morning sun, she closed her eyes.
