In Love with a Stranger

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In Love with a Stranger Page 3

by Rose von Barnsley


  I sat alone, glancing at my bus ticket to Silver Springs. I had another three hours before it was time to go home. I had two boxes and my suitcase. That was all I had left from my life in the dorms. I thought it was so little, and my life was so unplanned at this point. I had a degree, but no prospects. I was going home to live with my father, with only two boxes and a suitcase to show for my years of hard work. My dad had been so proud of me when I’d graduated, but once I realized how bleak the job market was, I felt as if I’d failed him. I was supposed to grow up and do great things, but I was returning home instead, back to the beginning, with my two boxes and my suitcase.

  "Is this seat taken?" The accent in his voice made me blush. Just those few words made me swoon a little. I looked up to see he was turned away from me, waving a waitress over.

  "No, you're welcome to it."

  He sat down across from me, but my eyes stayed on my lap, too shy to look up. I saw his fingers slide my bus ticket to his side of the table. "Hannah Madison is headed to Silver Springs, Nevada. I've never heard of it."

  "Most people haven't," I nearly whispered.

  "Would you tell me about it?"

  I looked up to see if he was serious, but he’d turned again and was asking for a menu. His foot bumped my suitcase, knocking it over, and he scrambled to catch it.

  When he turned back, he was looking down, his ears were tinged red, and I knew he was blushing. "I'm so sorry."

  "No, it's fine, there's nothing to be sorry about."

  "I'm usually not so awkward."

  "Well, I am, so you'll fit in at my table just fine."

  There had been more, I knew there had been more, but that was where my memory stopped, and I hated that even in this new memory, I didn't get to see his face. My subconscious was teasing me, and I hated it. I was so close to seeing him, his long fingers, and his taut back. His hair color was so close to Mr. Greyson's that it was disturbing. I was worried my sudden infatuation with him was based solely on the memory of another man.

  From what my father had told me, I’d run away with a British man who’d lived in the states, obviously in New York. Mr. Greyson didn't live in the states, and most likely never had, since his business was established so deeply in Britain. I had to keep the poor man at arm's length, so I didn't wrongfully get his hopes up. It wouldn't be fair to him if I pushed my feelings for another man onto him. He wasn't my mystery love, and I needed to tread lightly, so neither of us got hurt.

  WILLIAM

  It was three weeks later when Duncan called Carter Harper to discuss expanding our contract with Mr. Harper’s company and set up a time for all of us to meet for negotiations. I’d been pushing for the expansion, needing a legitimate excuse to show up on Mr. Harper’s doorstep and ask for his sister's information. I didn't want to look like a stalker, but I was dying to be one. I had to see this Mary Harper again and fast. The resemblance was uncanny, and I was determined to prove they were the same person. They had to be…they just had to be…

  Camille bounced excitedly beside me, annoying the crap out of me. She’d said she had a feeling in her bones that this was going to be an epic trip, and not just because the shopping was going to be amazing. "I just know it, William. Something big is on the horizon," she said with a huge grin.

  "Stop bouncing like a three-year-old brat, or I'll send you home," I threatened my little sister.

  We waited with Duncan in Mr. Harper's office. We were a little early. He’d gone to lunch with his sisters, and they were just returning. We could hear one of them suggesting taking my sister shopping as they entered the office.

  "You don't want her to get bored out of her mind waiting, do you, Carter?"

  "I'm sure she'll be fine, Ophelia," I heard Mr. Harper say. "I’d rather not have either of you around when I meet with them."

  "What's your problem?" I heard who I assumed was Ophelia ask him, sounding annoyed.

  "He's just going into overprotective brother mode. I swear he about ripped poor Mr. Greyson's head off." I recognized that voice as Mary Harper.

  "I didn’t."

  "Well, I'm just saying, if looks could kill, he’d be dead. What was your deal, anyway?"

  "I didn't like how he was staring at you."

  "I doubt he was staring, Carter," Mary said, defending me.

  "Wait, are we talking about the impossible William Greyson? He was interested in Hannah? Ha, I guess it takes a recluse to know a recluse."

  My heart skipped a beat. That was the second time I’d heard someone call her Hannah. I couldn't breathe. My eyes locked on her, willing her to look at me. I needed to know if it was really Hannah, and if so, why was she hiding from me? Why had she run away with no explanation?

  Mr. Harper's attempts to lose his sisters were all in vain. I’d bet he hadn’t expected my exuberant little sister to pop out from behind Duncan and stun him into silence.

  "Hello, Mr. Harper, I'm Camille Greyson, William's sister."

  What happened next was comical at best. Mr. Harper nodded slightly, and he looked like he was trying to form words, but was failing horribly. Apparently, our little Camille had knocked him speechless. Ophelia stepped up and made a show of closing his mouth for him. "He's very pleased to meet you and was wondering if you'd like to join us for some shopping?"

  Duncan and I were barely controlling our laughter at the stunned expression on Mr. Harper's face.

  "Oh, that’d be brilliant! Is that alright with you fellows?" Camille asked Duncan and me.

  Ophelia and Camille turned to us for a response, but I was too busy staring intensely at Mary, who was blushing and hiding behind Mr. Harper, trying to escape my eyes. Duncan was practically drooling on his shoes staring at Ophelia.

  Camille reached up and did the same as Ophelia had done, shoving Duncan's mouth closed. "Okay, I'll take that as a yes."

  HANNAH

  Ophelia and Camille grabbed me, and we hurried out the door, leaving the three guys to their meeting.

  "What was with Greyson?" Ophelia asked me, and I just shrugged and looked at Camille for an answer.

  "Don't ask me, he usually doesn't look at girls like most men do. I've never seen my brother stare at someone like that," Camille laughed.

  "No wonder Carter got all crazy," Ophelia teased.

  "Just drop it, Ophelia," I defended William, but I didn't know why.

  "How long do you have until you have to pick up Penny?" Ophelia asked.

  "I have until five o'clock this evening, so we're good for a little while. Though, I'll probably cut out early and check on my shop."

  "Ooh, what kind of shop do you have?" Camille asked excitedly.

  "It's a bookshop."

  Camille looked at me disappointed for a second, and then politely said, "Oh, that's nice." Apparently, bookstores weren't high on her "fun places to shop" list.

  Ophelia laughed and started the shopping and fashion discussions that filled the rest of our afternoon. I did cut out early, and so I wasn't around when they made plans for all of us to have dinner together at Carter's place.

  Ophelia called me after dropping off Camille at their hotel. "Hannah, we're doing dinner with Carter and his clients tonight."

  "No, I can't, Ophelia. I haven't seen Penelope all day. She just got home."

  "Oh, for heaven sakes, Hannah, just bring her with you."

  "I don't think that's a good idea. I don't like the way Mr. Greyson was looking at me today." It was so hard and intense. I was scared he’d want something from me I just couldn't give him…even if I wanted to.

  "I swear, Hannah, he's probably just interested in you. Why don't you come and find out why he's staring at you?”

  "No, that's okay."

  "I'm calling my mom, and she's going to take Penelope for the evening."

  "Ophelia, no, it's not a good idea. Besides, Mr. Greyson still thinks I'm Mary Harper. It's ridiculous, but he obviously isn't going to be pleased if he finds out he's been lied to."

  "Maybe he already kno
ws. Maybe that's why he was looking at you funny."

  "I don't know, but whatever happens tonight, someone should set him straight and let him know I'm not Mary Harper. Every time I went to tell him when we were in England, Carter would cut me off. He even caught Carter calling me Hannah, and Carter just played it off that he was calling me honey. I can't believe Mr. Greyson bought it."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Yes, it's an embarrassing mess, one I’d rather avoid. Can’t I just skip dinner?"

  "Fine, only if you meet us for coffee tomorrow. We'll be by the shop at ten o'clock."

  "Fine."

  "Come on, you know you love me, Sis."

  "Yes, I do. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ophelia."

  OPHELIA

  I eagerly answered the door. Mr. Conner surprised me by taking my hand and kissing it. It was the first time I’d gotten a good look at him, since I’d been so distracted by Carter's reaction to Camille and then Mr. Greyson's staring at Hannah. Mr. Conner was tall, broad and handsome, with a wide megawatt smile that lit up his whole countenance. He was without a doubt one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever had the pleasure of ogling shamelessly.

  "Ms. Ophelia Harper, what a pleasure to meet you."

  I felt my heart flutter in my chest, as he spoke my name with that liquid fire voice, laced with a delicious Scottish accent. "Please, just call me Ophelia," I managed to say without slobbering on my dress from drooling at him.

  "Of course, Ophelia, and please, call me Duncan."

  William rolled his eyes at our exchange, and Camille snickered. I shot her a look, and she just shrugged. I led them into the dining hall, and Duncan surprised me by asking if my sister, Mary, would be joining us, just as Carter entered the room. I glared at Carter, which confused our guests for a moment.

  "Her name isn’t Mary. Seriously, Carter, I can't believe you did that," I huffed. My eyes found William's, and he suddenly looked very intense. "She wanted to tell you, but apparently, my stupid overprotective brother here cut her off before she could."

  William spoke carefully. "So, her name isn't Mary Harper?"

  "No, she's not our biological sister, though we did kind of adopt her."

  "Ophelia has a knack for picking up strays," Carter quipped, and I shot him another glare.

  "Then why Mary Harper?" William asked with what appeared to be some restraint. Why did he even care? She had nothing to do with his and Carter's business dealings. Weird guy.

  "That was the name we called her, when she was in the hospital. Ophelia found her unconscious with no purse, no phone or any kind of ID, so we had no idea what her real name was. She was in a coma for six months. I still call her Mary Harper, because it's just fun to tease her."

  "Shut up, Carter." Enough was enough.

  "You were the one who named her Virgin Mary, full of grace, which was so fitting with her miraculous conception," Carter argued. None of this was their business, and he needed to shut the hell up.

  "Carter!" I snapped.

  My argument with my stupid brother was surprisingly interrupted when William asked, "But she's okay now? She wasn't hurt?"

  "She had a serious head injury when I found her, but she recovered from that. Other than not being able to remember anything from the two months prior to her injury until she woke up, she's fine. Unfortunately, because the injury caused her to have memory loss, and she doesn't remember anything about having any boyfriends or getting pregnant, she's really put off by men. The whole experience ruined her interest in having any sort of serious relationship with the opposite sex. I'm sorry if you're interested in her, Mr. Greyson, but Hannah was very badly traumatized by her ordeal, so she doesn't date."

  His eyes exploded wider, and he looked over at Camille, who took in her brother's shaking form.

  "Are you alright?" Carter asked. "I'm sorry. I'm just very protective of her. She had a very difficult time when she woke up, literally with nothing and no one. She couldn't even remember why she’d been in New York. For all intents and purposes, I do consider her my sister. She has been for the past seven years."

  "Seven years?" William choked out. "When…when did this happen?" he asked. The poor guy looked like he was about to faint, which was really odd.

  I looked at him confused. "Seven years ago August, I found her in an alley late one morning, when I was out shopping. She woke up the following February."

  CAMILLE

  William sounded like he was choking for moment.

  I was at his side. "Maybe we should go. I don't think he's feeling well," I said, as I wrapped my arm around my pale brother.

  "It was nice to see you again. I'm sorry if you're not feeling well, William," Ophelia said politely then turned to me. "Are we still on for coffee tomorrow, Camille?"

  "Yes, that’d be lovely," I said, passing William to Duncan, who led him toward the door.

  Ophelia slipped one of Hannah's business cards to me. "Great, we're meeting at Hannah's shop at ten o'clock, then."

  Duncan quickly helped William out of the house, and he commenced puking in the bushes the minute he cleared the porch.

  "Is he going to be okay? Should we get him to a doctor?" Ophelia asked Duncan, and William shook his head no.

  "Just…just take me back to the hotel," William croaked.

  "Camille, let me know if you need to cancel, and I can get you the name of a doctor, too, if he needs one," Ophelia added.

  "Thanks, Ophelia, I'll be in touch," I called over my shoulder, as I hurried toward the hired car.

  Something strange was going on here, and I had a feeling my brother had some explaining to do.

  Chapter 5 - Dirty Minds

  HANNAH

  I was standing at my stovetop, making Penelope's favorite dinner of macaroni and cheese, when I had a memory of my lover in the kitchen…a kitchen.

  It was white with black accents. I was cooking some sort of sauce. It was nearly ready. I heard him come in. "Honey, I'm home," he teased.

  "Well, it's about time. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

  His arm wrapped around my waist, and his other hand grabbed my butt. "Look at you being all domestic," he mumbled against my neck while kissing it. I was instantly covered in goose bumps. I didn't know why I’d even bothered cooking dinner. I should’ve waited. He was insatiable, and so was I. I sagged heavily into his chest. "I promise to thank you properly after dinner. For now, though, you'll just have to settle for me setting the table." I glanced back at him, admiring his backside, while he pulled the dishes from the cabinet. I wanted him.

  Just like the other memories, his face still wasn't revealed, just another piece of his amazing body. I didn't know him, but I wanted him.

  WILLIAM

  I sat silent, thinking over everything I’d heard tonight. Hannah had been hurt. It was my fault she’d been out alone in New York in the first place. I’d told her never to go out on her own. The stubborn girl wouldn't listen. I should've taken her with me. I could've hidden the ring from her, even if she’d been there with me. I’d been so stupid to leave her behind. It would only have been another month until she had her passport. I should’ve waited until then.

  Just the thought of her being injured made my stomach twist. She’d been badly hurt, enough so that it’d put her in a coma for six months!

  Oh God, what if she’d been raped? Would they have told me if she had been? She’d been a virgin when we’d gotten together. I knew I’d been her first. Had I gotten her pregnant? Did she really not remember me? If not, why would she name her daughter Penelope? Was her daughter mine?

  My chest ached. I hoped she was my daughter and that Hannah hadn’t been raped. I suddenly realized I might be a father.

  I was sharing a two-room suite with Camille, and Duncan had a room across the hall. Duncan and Camille helped me to my room, and then Duncan left to go to his. Camille stood there looking at me.

  "Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" she asked.

  My stinging eyes met he
rs, and I spoke in a soft whisper, since my throat was raw from vomiting.

  "Do you remember when I lived in New York?" Camille tapped her chin, and I continued. "It was during your last year in school, I think."

  "Yes, of course, that was the year you and dad got into a huge fight. What was that about?"

  "Hannah."

  She looked at me confused and shocked. "What?"

  "I think it's her. I could be wrong. It's been so many years. It could be a different Hannah, they never did tell us her last name, but it’d all fit. It’d explain why she’d disappeared and never tried to find me. That year, after Christmas, dad said he was calling off the search for her, and he and I got into it.

  “It’d been nearly six months, and there was no sign of her anywhere, no bank accounts, no credit cards, no rental agreements, nothing. It was as if she'd fallen off the face of the earth. When I contacted her father, he threatened to charge me with kidnapping and murder. It was why I’d had to move back to England. I was convinced it was me she was hiding from and used her father to put me off. If what they're saying is true, Camille, then she doesn't remember me." Tears swelled in my eyes.

  “Maybe it’s a different Hannah.” She pulled out the business card Ophelia had handed her. “Her name is Hannah Madison.”

  I fell forward, gripping my knees, letting out a strangled wail. “William?” Camille asked frantically, as she tried to hold on to me.

  "It's her," I gasped out. "It's her, Camille! I should’ve known she'd never leave me."

  Camille held me while I cried. I couldn't believe it, after all these years, I’d finally found her, only to have her not remember me. I was excited, hurt and scared. How was I going to tell her? How was I going to convince her to be with me? Ophelia had said she had no interest in relationships, and I really needed to have one with her.

  HANNAH

  I’d gotten Penelope ready for school and was about to step into the bathroom to take my shower. Just then, she came running in with her little fireman’s hat on that she’d gotten last month, when the fire marshal had done his latest inspection. "I need my fire engine, Mommy! I left it in here. I like to keep my fire engine clean, it’s a clean machine," she said, grabbing her fire truck and running out of the room.

 

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