* * *
Grace’s phone rang. She pulled the cell phone out of her pocket but didn’t recognize the number. She began to hit Ignore, but remembered she had job feelers out. This time with Jackson was only temporary.
“This is Grace Delaney.”
“Hello, Grace Delaney, should I be congratulating you?”
“Doug!” Happy to hear her friend’s voice, she sank down on the sofa and looked out over the Strip. “Why would you congratulate me? Did I get a job I don’t know about?”
“Not unless you’re ready to join the FBI,” he responded.
“I’ve actually been giving it some thought. I’ve really enjoyed the profiling and background work I’ve been doing for Jackson. I might be interested in an analyst position with the FBI.”
“We always need good analysts. I’ll pass the word. But what I’m talking about is your upcoming wedding. The tabloids have announced you’re engaged to Hawke.”
“Seriously?” she asked, her heart clenched at the news. How she wished she could dismiss his revelation as sheer craziness. She and Jackson had known each other for only a week. But the truth was she’d fallen, and fallen hard. “Well, I can promise you any rumors of an engagement are greatly exaggerated.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Doug said. “So how come I don’t believe you?”
Because he knew her too well. “Maybe because I wished it was true?”
“You’ve fallen for him.”
She nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “Foolishly, I have.”
“Why foolish? You’ll make a great billionaire’s wife.”
Her heart squeezed even tighter. “Ah, that would require the billionaire to have feelings for me.”
“So what’s the problem? The man I saw clearly held you in high regard.”
Hope bloomed, but she blocked it. She needed to be realistic. “I think you’re confusing desperation for a connection. I was the only person he knew in a world gone crazy.”
“I don’t know. He was jealous of me. That points to a connection if you ask me.”
“Jealous?” She forced a laugh. “You’re imagining things.”
“There must be something there, or the tabloids wouldn’t have the two of you getting married.”
“There’s...chemistry.”
“Ah.” Silence beat down the line. “If you love him, you have to fight for him.”
“Fight for who?” she demanded, raw emotion tearing through her. “Jackson has his name thanks to you, but his memories are still defunct. When he gets them back, I’ll just be another memory.”
“It’s not like you to be a defeatist.”
“No, I’m a realist.” And an emotional mess. “He lives in hotels, Doug. And you heard me the other day. The only thing I’m certain of is a need for a home, for permanence.”
“So get him to buy you a house. He’s a bachelor, Grace. And travels a lot for business. Just because he doesn’t have a home doesn’t mean he doesn’t long for one.” A call sounded in the background. “Listen, Sherry needs me. Stay strong. The next time we talk, I hope I’ll be offering congratulations for real.”
“Give Sherry hugs from me. I’ll think about what you said,” she promised.
“I hope so, because you deserve to be happy. And I’m talking to Ken Case about that analyst position.”
The line disconnected and Grace dropped her phone on the couch, staring unseeing out the picture window. Doug made it sound so simple. Fight for Jackson, get him to buy the home they both longed for. So perfect.
Yet so far out of reach.
* * *
Jackson sat at the head of the conference table, listening to the conversation flowing around him. He’d admitted to Grace to being nervous about reporting to work, but diving back into his life was both exhilarating and challenging. He found it fascinating, and luckily much of the knowledge was there, even if the details and people were still blanks.
Again and again he looked around for Grace, wanting to share something with her, but dragging his girlfriend into a meeting would be pushing it.
Other than that, the plan was going great. Her preparations, sourced onto his new cell phone, put all the pertinent info he needed at his fingertips. Names of department heads along with pictures, descriptions of his games, a list of ventures and properties he owned. No one questioned him looking at his phone.
It worried him sometimes that he’d become so dependent on her. Everything he’d learned since arriving in Las Vegas pointed to self-reliance. More, it was clear he kept women at a distance.
He couldn’t imagine relegating Grace to her own suite. The best part of his day was waking with her in his arms. But would he feel the same way when his old life caught up to his new one?
His past, losing his mother so young and being in nine foster homes before finding a home with Mama Harman, was a memory bomb waiting to explode. How could he know how he’d feel once those memories returned?
He couldn’t. But he knew he wanted Grace by his side when that time came. She’d helped him through every mishap so far. He trusted her instincts, trusted her to put him first. Getting his memories back wasn’t going to change that. No matter what those memories held.
The meeting wrapped up and Jackson met Grace in the lobby.
“Hi. Oh. Where are we going?” she demanded when he simply wrapped an arm around her waist and swept her along. “I thought we were going to go over the game plan for the gala tonight. I have the profiles for the invited VIPs. I also asked Sierra for a list of the coordinators and their assistants and did brief profiles on them. And I included the roster of your executives, with the pictures attached.”
“Excellent. I can look at them in the car.” A large black SUV pulled up as he urged Grace through the door.
“It’s going to take you a while to go through that.” She slid in when he held the door open for her but stopped him from closing her in. “There are more than forty profiles for the VIPs alone.”
“I’m good with facts and faces.” He shut the door and rounded the vehicle. Inside the partition was up between them and the driver. “I will admit things seem to take forever to absorb. Took me nearly an hour to get through the file the FBI did on me when I was finally able to read it.”
“An hour?” Her pretty blue eyes widened with amazement. “It took me all afternoon.”
“I’ve found I’m a fast reader.” He flipped through the file on the tablet she’d handed him, squinting, as his vision still blurred occasionally. That had been the only problem in the meeting earlier. It helped that she used a large font. These profiles included both personal and business details. “I’m amazed you were able to put this together so quickly.”
“Yeah, well, I’m good with facts and faces, too.” She gave him a rundown of her report. As the gala was a fund-raiser, she’d sorted the VIP profiles based on net worth. While he read, she fell silent as the wonders of the Strip caught her attention. Once they left the excitement behind, she turned to him. “Where did you say we’re going?”
“To police headquarters. I made an appointment with the detective investigating my case.”
“Are you sure you want to do this today? With the gala tonight? You’re bound to see or hear something that makes your head hurt.”
“Knowledge is worth the pain. We’re here. And I want to get through this.” He hopped out of the SUV. She was waiting on the other side. He took her hand and led the way inside to the information desk. “We’re here to see Detective Hunt in Special Investigations,” he told the clerk.
The woman directed them to the third floor and Jackson led Grace to the elevators.
She turned concerned eyes on him. “I’m just worried it’ll ruin your mood for the gala tonight.”
“And it may help me to remember.” He pushed the up button. “You’re always talking about my mind providing clues. Well, this is what my mind is prompting me to do.”
“Okay.” She squeezed his hand once they were inside the e
levator. “But don’t expect too much. They probably won’t be able to tell you much more than was in the report.”
Her concern touched him. He bent and kissed her softly. “I’m glad I have you with me.”
A bright sheen came into her eyes and for a heartbeat he thought she might cry. The very notion of his stalwart Grace in tears made his heart twist. But she smiled and the moment disappeared.
She started to say something when the elevator doors opened onto the second floor and a woman who looked to be in her fifties stepped on.
“Good morning,” she greeted them with a smile and pushed Five.
From a distance he heard Grace respond. The woman’s scent, an Oriental perfume with touches of citrus and rose, hit him the minute the doors opened. His head spun and pain exploded behind his eyes. He knew that perfume. From a long time ago. It belonged to someone important. Someone who represented warmth and comfort. He had the strongest desire to grab the woman and hold her close.
“Jackson.” Grace pulled on his hand.
He didn’t budge. The woman smiled kindly.
“Jackson!”
He blinked at Grace. “What?”
“We’re here.” She drew him off the elevator. “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
The doors closed behind him. He swung around but the woman was gone.
“Jackson, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m fine.” He spotted a bench against the wall down the way and made his way to it. “Do you have one of my pain pills with you?”
“Yes.” She sat next to him and dug in her purse. “Here.” She presented him with a tiny white pill and a bottle of water. “What happened back there?”
“I did see a ghost. Or, more accurately, smelled one.” Head reeling, he chased the pill with a sip of water and watched her brow furrow in confusion. “That woman’s perfume struck a chord. I think my mother wore the same scent.”
“Oh, Jackson.” Her hand covered his knee. “What makes you associate it with your mother? Did you have an actual memory?”
“No. It was more like emotions that seemed to be from a long time ago. Sensations of love and warmth and happiness. But there was no memory, no face to go with the feelings.”
His frustration with the lingering amnesia echoed between them.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she suggested again.
“No. Don’t you get it? I need knowledge. If my brain won’t provide me with the facts of my life, I’ll get them any way I can.” He surged to his feet. “Come on, we have an appointment.”
He started down the hall but soon realized she wasn’t with him. Turning around, he spotted her right where he left her. Arms crossed over her chest, she stood with her head cocked watching him. Damn it. He wanted her with him.
He retraced his steps. “Aren’t you coming?”
Those watchful blue eyes never shifted from his face. “You’ve already had a traumatic event. I’ll go with you, but only if I get to call a halt if it looks like it’s getting to be too much for you.”
“Yeah, all right.” He grabbed her hand, determined not to leave her behind again.
Her hand moved but her feet didn’t. When he came to a stop, he turned to glare at her down the length of their two arms. Her expression hadn’t changed. “Promise me.”
He gritted his teeth, disliking having limitations placed on him. But the one true thing he knew was Grace cared about him. It was the foundation of his world. “I promise.”
She nodded. “Okay then, lead the way.”
A few minutes later Detective Hunt stood to greet them. “Mr. Hawke, welcome back. And this must be Ms. Delaney.”
“Please call me Grace. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice. I’m sure you can understand Mr. Hawke is anxious to get an update on the investigation. Do you have anything new on the assailant?”
“Not much.” Hunt gestured behind them with the file in his hand. “Why don’t we take this to a conference room?” A few feet down the hall, he opened a door and ushered them inside. “My partner is on a call regarding another case. She’ll join us if she can.”
Jackson nodded and sank into one of the cushioned seats. He reached for Grace’s hand before giving Hunt his full attention. “What more have you learned about Vanessa? Tell me you are close to apprehending her.”
Hunt opened the file, flipped through the pages. “Vanessa Miller’s family has money. She gets a monthly allowance and all her household expenses are paid. She has no close friends. Interviews with her neighbors revealed she has a bad temper and sometimes gets violent. We got a search warrant for her home and found a prescription for an antianxiety medication. After talking to her doctor, we determined she has a psychotic explosive disorder.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Grace spoke up.
“No. People suffering from the disorder can be fine for long periods of time, and then something will set them off and they become verbally and physically abusive. It means she’s capable of overreacting to the point of violence over any little thing. The medication is supposed to help, but she’s known to go off it, which of course increases the chances of episodes. Your company has security on her residence 24/7, with instructions to contact us if she’s spotted, but she hasn’t returned to her home.”
“You stated she has no friends or employers. What other avenues are you pursuing?” Jackson asked.
“We’ve interviewed the guests at the party where you met. Nobody particularly remembers her and nobody admits to inviting her. We talked to her neighbors. She’s been involved in several disputes so we went out and spoke to the responding officers. Seems she is well-known for blowing up and then being very contrite. Always pays bigger and better for any repairs needed. Still, people are afraid of her and tend to give her a wide berth. She put her maid in the hospital for trying on a pair of shoes, but again she was really sorry, and the family paid the woman off, so no charges were ever filed.”
The more Jackson heard, the angrier he got. “If she’s such a menace, why hasn’t she ever been charged or put in a care facility?”
“Unfortunately, it’s not that easy,” Grace said. “Unless she actually breaks a law there’s nothing the police can do but take a report. Sometimes accumulative reports will build a history supporting action or adding to charges if any are ever brought.”
Hunt nodded. “The family should do something, but they’ve set her up in the house and pretty much washed their hands of the situation.”
“I am pressing charges,” Jackson declared. “Someone who can lose their temper and stab a guy needs to be put away.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Hunt shuffled the papers back together, and a picture slid out. Jackson automatically reached for it as he listened to Hunt. “A lot of men are too embarrassed to admit a woman hurt them.”
Forget that. “I think my reputation can survive it.”
“Good, good. Have you remembered anything more you think can help us?”
Jackson exchanged glances with Grace. She gave a subtle nod that he took to mean she thought he should reveal his condition to the detective. He responded with a negative shake of his head. He couldn’t see where confessing his vulnerability helped the situation.
“No, nothing new.” He casually looked down at the picture. It wasn’t the driver’s license shot, which was what he’d seen before. This was a candid picture of a woman at a party. She had lighter hair, animated features and was dressed in a minidress sipping a martini.
Seeing her in the context in which they met triggered something in his mind.
He dropped the photo to grab his head as pain streaked from temple to temple and thunder pounded behind his eyes. He knew her. Vanessa, pretty, fun, crazy. Images, thoughts, memories began to crowd his mind, of her, of his past, his friends, his company. Everything.
It was too much. Too fast.
“Jackson?” Grace’s voice sounded as if she was shouting in a tunnel.
“Mr. Hawke?
” Hunt sounded the same.
“I’m okay.” Jackson tried to say but it came out as a croak.
He wanted out of there. To be home. And alone until he sorted everything out.
Tension radiated off Jackson. That and the fact his grip nearly crushed her knuckles told Grace something was wrong. She hid her anxiety behind a polite smile.
“It’s the concussion,” she explained to Hunt. “He was in an accident a few days ago. Is it possible for us to have the room for a few minutes?”
“Of course, take your time. A last word of caution, Mr. Hawke. Vanessa knows she’s done wrong. If she follows her pattern, she could be waiting for you to resurface in order to apologize. But she’s clearly unstable. Do not engage with her. And your security people should notify us immediately if they see her.”
“Thank you, Detective.” Grace pulled her hand free to move to the door, a gesture meant to hurry the detective along. “We’ll take every precaution. And I’ll personally pass your message on to security.”
“Tonight’s gala is a public event. We’re concerned she may take the opportunity to get close to Hawke.”
“I’ll have Sierra add you and your partner to the guest list.”
“Thanks. Let me know if you folks need anything more, otherwise I’ll see you tonight.” Hunt gathered up his folder and left the room.
Grace closed the door behind him then rushed back to Jackson’s side.
“Jackson, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She got a groan in response. So not good.
She dug in her purse for another pain pill and the water bottle. The doctor had said Jackson could take two pills if necessary. He’d refused to take more than one and she’d practically had to force-feed the few he’d taken. But he gave her no argument about taking a second pill. He shoved it in his mouth and swallowed on a gulp of water.
Wanting to do something more, she began massaging his temples. He stiffened but didn’t ask her to stop. After a bit she shifted her fingers to the top and then the back of his head, working down until she used her thumbs along the chords at the base of his head leading to his neck. He moaned and the tension lessened through his shoulders.
His Unforgettable Fiancée Page 15
