by Maisey Yates
She was used to watching from upstairs. She was definitely not used to being down in the party.
“Well,” she said fiercely to her expression. “Tonight you are.”
The bedroom door opened and Leon walked in. Her heart slammed against her breastbone, her mouth going dry. He looked beautiful in his perfectly fitted suit, all traces of the vulnerable, confused man she had spent the past couple of months caring for erased. This was the Leon she had always known. Confident. Suave. Perfectly at ease in any situation he might be dropped into.
“Rose,” he said, his dark gaze intense. “You look… I don’t have words. There is nothing that will do you justice.”
She felt her skin heating all over. “Thank you.”
“Shall we?” He extended his arm, and she looped hers through it. Then they continued downstairs together.
The ballroom was already full of guests, men who looked exquisite in their tuxedos, women who were resplendent in their gowns. That earlier insecurity that was vibrating over her body grabbed hold, worked its way beneath her skin.
He had said there were no words for her beauty, and yet there were so many women in here who possessed a much richer, deeper beauty than Rose did.
The kind of women he used to prefer to her.
He had spent nearly two months with her as his only lover. Surely these other creatures, rare hothouse flowers—that were nothing like the common garden variety of bloom that she was—held greater appeal.
Perhaps that was why he had no words. Because she was simply plain.
At some point, she scolded herself, tightening her hold on him, you have to trust him.
Yes, at some point she would. But it was difficult. Not because he hadn’t proved himself to be loyal over the past couple months. Simply because these months were like something out of a dream. And when it all came down to it, he had not offered her the most important thing. He had promised commitment. He had promised it several times over. But he had never offered feelings. He had never offered love. That concerned her.
Attraction was one thing. It was most certainly real. At least between the two of them. At least…for her.
What would happen when that changed? What would happen if she were to become pregnant with his child? If her body changed? What would happen when she aged? Would his feelings change along with her appearance?
She pushed the thought firmly into the back of her mind. She was not going to focus on anything like that. She wasn’t going to doubt him. Not now, not when he had given her nothing to doubt.
A man in a perfectly cut suit, with a beautiful woman on his arm, crossed the space between them. The woman was visibly pregnant, although her bump was neat and small, making her look rather serene and elegant. And she was very much in love with her companion.
“Carides. It is good to see that you’re unharmed.”
She could see by the relatively blank look on Leon’s face that he was not entirely certain of who he was speaking to.
“We haven’t met,” Rose interjected. “I’m Rose Tanner. I’m Leon’s wife.”
At that, the man’s beautiful companion blinked. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Charity. Charity Amari. This is my husband, Rocco.”
“Charmed,” Rocco said, reaching out and taking her hand, pressing his lips to her skin.
She could see something change in Leon’s expression. “The last time I saw you was just before my accident,” he said.
“Yes,” Rocco said. “I’m glad to see you weren’t killed. Though I did find myself a little bit irritated with you as you did such a good job of charming my wife.”
Rose looked at Charity, then down at the baby bump. Charity laughed. “That is definitely my husband’s doing,” she said. “Not yours. I was not as charmed as Rocco feared I might be. But since I was feeling rather uncharmed by him at the time, he had cause for concern.”
“My own fault,” Rocco said. “But all is well now. As it seems to be with the two of you.”
“Yes,” Leon said, taking a step toward Rose and wrapping his arm around her waist. “One thing my accident showed me was that I was taking my wife for granted. I will not do so anymore.”
Rose couldn’t help herself. She turned to look at her husband. “Why?”
He frowned. “Why what?”
“Why won’t you take me for granted?”
She knew what she wanted to hear. She didn’t know why she was pressing for it now. But it was too late to turn back.
“Because, agape. You’re very important to me.”
“Why?” she insisted.
“Oh, dear,” Charity said. “I do think you might be in a bit of trouble, Mr. Carides.”
“That is nothing new,” Leon said, his tone smooth. Clearly, he was no longer uncertain of how he knew the Amaris.
“Well, I suggest you find a way to fix it,” Rocco said. “I’m glad that I did.”
The two of them turned and walked away, and left Rose alone with Leon.
Jealousy was like a fire-breathing dragon inside of her. “Would you care to explain to me exactly how you know her?”
“Jealousy, Rose? You know perfectly well that I committed sins before my accident. That has been made abundantly clear. But if you suspect every woman we come into contact with—”
“I have every right to suspect her. We’ve been living in a dream world, Leon. Everything between us has been so easy. Because we’ve been here alone.”
“We have not been alone. If you will recall we had a visit from one of my former mistresses. And it has not been easy. As you will also remember she came to give me my child.”
“I have not forgotten.”
“You think so little of me that you think you have cause for concern just because other women are parading themselves in front of me?”
“When have you earned anything else?” She despised this small, mean part of her that was lashing out at him now. It was all of the insecurity. Roiling inside of her like a beast.
He shook his head. “I haven’t. But at some point, you will have to allow me to try without constant suspicion.”
“Just answer my question.”
“I met Charity at an event the night of my accident. She was firmly and fully besotted with the man she has now married. She had no interest in me.”
“But you tried to see if she might?”
“Mostly to make Rocco angry. I find him insufferable.”
“You remember him now.”
When Leon had a memory, it tended to come in waves. She wondered which other memories would be visiting them tonight. She should have known there would be new memories. After all, they would be encountering people he had interacted with in the life that extended beyond the one they had created here in the manor. This truly had been a cosseted existence, one she hadn’t fully appreciated until now.
Now she was sharing him with the world. This man who had become so essential to her. She had always cared for him, but now that they had become intimate it was different. Now he felt like he was a part of her. And allowing other women to look at him, allowing them to get anywhere near him… It was much more difficult than she had anticipated it might be.
There were women here who would remember what it was like to be with him. Who would remember what he looked like naked. And he would have similar memories of them.
She really hadn’t appreciated how hard that might be.
“Do you remember anyone else?”
“Is that a rather snappish way of asking if I have ex-lovers here?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice near to a hiss.
“You have certainly changed, Rose. You used to be much more biddable.”
“New things you’re starting to remember?”
“Yes.”
“Who knew this party would be such a treasure trove.”
He grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her from walking away, turning her toward him. Then he reached out, gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “What we have has been good. Do not ruin this.”
“How can you accuse me of being in any danger of ruining it? I’m not the one who took lovers during our marriage.”
“No. That was me. I am the one who took lovers during our marriage. I did not hide it. I am ashamed of it. I am also the one who cannot change the past. And so, agape, I would ask that if you wish to be in a marriage with me you allow me to move on from the mistakes that I have made. For if you never allow me to be more than that, then how will I ever transcend it?”
“It’s on me now?” she asked, her tone icy.
“If you want to be with me,” he responded. “If I can never be anything to you but the man who betrayed you then I don’t see how we can move forward.”
His words hit her square in the heart. “I’m sorry.”
She had been nervous from the moment they had arrived down here at the party. She wasn’t acting like herself. And it wasn’t fair to him.
“Can you tell me what the problem is?” His voice was tender, his eyes soft. It made her feel terrible.
“We don’t need to have this discussion now.”
“I fear that we might. Especially as you seem so very upset with me.”
“I’m not upset with you. But… I can’t forget the fact that you were happy to sleep with every woman in this room except me for the past two years. And yes, that makes me a little bit insecure. And it’s much easier to be angry at you than it is to feel that insecurity.”
“You are exaggerating. I did not sleep with every woman in this room.”
“Oh, really?”
“A third of them. Maybe. And that’s being generous.”
She laughed, in spite of herself. “All right. So maybe I’m being a little bit overdramatic. It’s just… It’s hard for me to believe this is real. Everything has changed so much. You’ve changed so much. And I suppose I’m afraid that you’ll wake up and everything will change back.”
He tipped his head to the side, his dark eyes glittering with intensity. “I’m not asleep, Rose. I’m not going to wake up from anything.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. I think I understand that. But it isn’t as though there is a guideline for dealing with things like this.”
“Yes. Sadly, the So Your Spouse Has Amnesia handbook has been out of print for quite some time.”
“It really is a shame. Women like me could use some guidance.”
“Well, I’m all out of guidance. Why don’t we dance?”
He took her hand and led her out into the middle of the dance floor. Rose allowed herself to be swept into his arms. For a moment, she felt like she was lost in one of her childhood dreams. The ballroom was ornately decorated, the music swirled around them. Her husband, so strong, so impossibly handsome held her close. And when he turned her, she could see straight through the ballroom doors, up to the top of the stairs where she used to sit, crouched and watching as her parents did the very same thing.
Finally, she was a part of this life that she had dreamed of for so long. She felt like she was standing in a dream. And she knew there was only one thing that would make it even more perfect. The one thing that was causing the trouble tonight.
It was a risk. She knew it was. But she was ready to take it. Here, lost in this beautiful moment that seem to be comprised almost entirely of stars, she felt as though she could never fall down to the ground. And if she did, surely he would catch her.
“Love,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s the lack of love that’s concerning me. I love you. I love you so much, Leon, and I want very much for you to love me, too. That’s what I need to be certain. That’s what I need to trust. Love.”
He went stiff beneath her touch, his black eyes taking on a hollow quality.
The world as she knew it fell away, the stars burning out. And Rose fell down to earth.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LEON WAS LOST in a memory that he had tried very hard to keep at bay. It was the look in Rose’s eyes that had done it. That earnest sincerity. It was imagining that that had propelled him forward during his discussion with April a little more than a year ago. He had been imagining what Rose might look like when he told her he had gotten his mistress pregnant. Because it had absolutely occurred to him to fob the child off on his wife. After all, he was never home. He wasn’t intimate with Rose. But surely she wanted a baby.
That thought had stopped him short. Because there was no way the baby could be in his house and he could keep himself from forming an attachment to it. He knew well enough that babies had a way of crawling beneath your skin. Of overtaking you completely. And of ripping your heart out when loss invaded your beautiful family.
“I’m pregnant, Leon. And I’m not going to get an abortion. So I don’t know what you want to do about it. But I can’t raise the baby without support—”
“I’ll pay you. Whatever you need. But I’m not going to take care of the child. If you need support putting it up for adoption, that’s up to you. Otherwise, I’m more than happy to set up funds so that you can make sure that you are both cared for.”
There was one thing he knew for certain. He could not undertake raising another child. He had never, ever intended to put himself through that ever again.
He hated himself for being so irresponsible. For putting himself in this position. But he was a man with money. And he could pay to make it go away. There was no reason on earth he would ever have to see the baby. He could pretend it had never happened.
And so he had established the paperwork, come to an agreement on the amount and promised to give April full payment once paternity had been established. He had never seen the child. He had been notified of its birth, and he had asked that she not tell him whether it was a boy or a girl.
He’d wanted to know nothing about it.
But the night of his baby’s birth, he had gone and gotten as drunk as he could remember ever getting. There wasn’t enough alcohol on earth to drown out the pain. And he had wished more than anything that he might find solace in Rose’s arms. Because there was something about her that had always seemed like home. Something about her that had always seemed like she might be the resting place he had wished for his entire life.
And it had been all the more reason to stay away from her. He had found another woman. A woman whose face he couldn’t even remember. And that had been so much the better because she hadn’t been special. He didn’t deserve special.
He snapped back to the moment and Rose was still staring at him, her blue eyes filled with concern. With pain.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I love you. And I want for you to love me back.”
He could see the truth in her blue eyes, and it was all too harsh. Too clear and bright. It was everything he’d always feared.
That honesty. Real, and deep. Reaching out for him. Asking for it in return.
He realized it then, as he stared back at her. She was everything pure and true, and she always had been. While he was a lie. Down to his very core.
He did nothing, not a single thing, with a shred of honesty. He lied to everyone. To his wife, his mistresses, himself.
No wonder he had lost his memories so easily. No wonder they had slipped away into the darkness with such ease. They were nothing.
He was nothing.
His mind was full now, but his hands were empty, and she wanted him to give her something that he…he simply couldn’t.
He released his hold on her and began to back away. Then he turned, walking out of the ballroom, straight out into the entryway of the house, and out the front door. A summer
shower was pouring down, large drops of water splashing on the paved drive. He looked around, desperate for escape. Desperate for reprieve.
“Leon!”
He turned, and saw Rose standing there in the doorway, her pale petite silhouette backlit by the golden light coming from inside the house. He knew right then she was everything he had ever dreamed of. She was warmth. She was light. She was home. And he could reach out and take none of it.
“No,” he said, his voice rough.
“Leon, don’t go.”
“We cannot do this.”
“Like hell we can’t.” Rose picked up her dress, holding the red silky fabric balled up in her fist as she made her way down the steps, and out into the rain. It fell across the gown, leaving dark splotches on it, as though she were bleeding out right there in front of him.
A wound for his every word.
He had hated himself. Hated himself for a long time, for a great many things, but he’d never hated himself more than he did in this moment.
“I can’t,” he bit out. “And there is the final piece of my memories. I can’t love you. That’s why I never touched you. That’s why I was never supposed to. That’s why it was better for me to spend the past two years warming the bed of every woman who would have me, rather than ever touching you. Because for all my sins, Rose, I never intended to hurt you.”
“But you did hurt me. You always hurt me. From the moment you agreed to marry me and then never touched me you hurt me. So it’s too late to pretend that you had any kind of self-sacrificing notion when you married me. You might have felt guilty, but surely you must’ve known you were going to hurt me.”
“I thought…” he ground out, the rain splashing down his shirt, sending trickles of cold water down his skin. He didn’t care. “I thought,” he continued, “that I might be able to have you. I thought perhaps I could condemn my conscience to hell and have what I pleased. I wanted you, Rose, make no mistake. Were it only down to attraction I would have had you on your back when you were eighteen, as I already told you. But it was more than that. Your father trusted me, and I knew that I could never give you what you would want.”
