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There were so many questions she wanted to ask. She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a precipice, about to plunge down into the dark depths of the unknown. Could she do this? Evidently there was only one way to find out.
He had not made any other move to touch her. No hug. No kiss—even on the cheek. In fact, she’d received more compassion from the doctor and nurse than from the man who said he was her husband. Maybe he was just holding back because he knew she had no recollection of him? If that was the case, she appreciated his thoughtfulness. If not, they obviously had a major problem within their marriage and one she could do nothing about until her memory returned. She hoped, yet again, that would happen soon. In the meantime, she had to speculate about what would be asked of her. What would her husband expect?
The pain in her head and body began to fade, and before she could ask another question, she returned to the comfort of oblivion.
* * *
Wade Masters stood motionless as he watched Victoria fall back to sleep. She’d been monitored closely for the swelling in her brain and tested often to ensure no veins in her head ruptured from the building pressure. Today, when he’d received the call that she seemed to be regaining consciousness, he’d come to the hospital immediately. This, after having to cut short a business trip to London when he’d first heard of the accident.
He hadn’t been prepared for the news of her amnesia. Or the fear he’d seen in her eyes, the way her gaze had held his as though his strength was the only thing holding her together. She’d looked at him with desperation and a silent cry for help, and he’d not been able to stop himself from wanting to make everything better. It had to be tough to wake up in a hospital and not remember your own name or what happened to put you there.
He was equally surprised the snobbishness she normally wore like a shield was gone. She tended to walk a fine line between arrogant and outright rude. But instead of demanding answers from the doctor, she’d asked questions with true concern and a hint of anguish in her voice. Still, she might not have the strength to be demanding. Perhaps it was all the pain and medication. Whatever the cause, something had changed. It was more than the cracked ribs and head injury. He had come here anticipating the worst, expecting he would have to deal with her demanding behavior. Instead, he encountered a woman who was frightened and wasn’t afraid to let that anxiety show.
And the way she appeared now, without a half ton of makeup covering her face and her hair in disarray, she looked amenable and, in a strange way, actually more attractive than usual. Despite the bruising from the accident, she was a very beautiful woman.
But she was fastidious about the way she looked. The hospital staff had better keep any mirrors well away from her until she healed or be prepared to bear her wrath and interminable temper. They all had better relish this peaceful time. The true Victoria would be back soon enough.
It was too bad, because she had so much to offer. If only she would get a grip, stop being so superficial and entitled, and set goals for her future.
With one last glance at the woman sleeping in the bed, he grabbed his briefcase from the chair and walked out into the corridor. As he approached the row of elevators, his mind was spinning. He had to get a handle on how to deal with this. Maybe Dave Renner, his attorney, could shed some light on what the hell he should do now. The documents to end this sham marriage had been prepared and were awaiting Victoria’s signature. They had both agreed to a settlement offer. In a matter of days he would have been free of her and all the baggage that came with her, including the outrageously snooty and often flamboyant behavior.
He would have been free of this woman who was his wife in name only.
His jaw clenched in frustration. He knew there was no easy answer. In fact, there was only one answer. Take her home when she was released and care for her until she completely recovered. He shook his head at the unbelievable twist of fate.
Wade was glad Victoria would eventually be okay. He certainly wished her no ill will. He’d had his secretary clear his calendar for the next few weeks so he could remain close until she was better. Anything she needed would be provided. But he couldn’t help but speculate if she would keep the amnesia thing going even if her memory returned. Her ability to maintain a lie was one of her best attributes. It was why he’d chosen her.
He pressed the elevator call button, still grinding his teeth. Their arrangement had been intended to benefit them both, giving her a much-sought entry into Dallas’s inner circles and providing him with the facade of being a settled family man, which worked to his advantage in business negotiations. It had also been intended to eliminate unwanted emotions and potential complications found in a real marriage, something he had neither the time nor the patience to deal with. Those complications had been replaced by new ones, but at least it had provided him the freedom to come and go as he deemed necessary, and of late go seemed the option that worked best. The less time he spent in her company, the better.
Eight months after signing the agreement that bound him to her as her husband, she’d begun to be seen with various men out in public, often making the gossip columns, effectively negating the very purpose for which he’d needed her, causing all the carefully staged efforts to blow up in his face. After she’d ignored repeated requests for discretion, her actions had continued, albeit on a lesser scale, but enough that he was still not happy, especially when it had begun to negatively affect his business dealings and made him appear the fool, which he would not permit. Victoria had scoffed and asked him if he really expected her to live like a nun. He’d assured her that was not his intention. What he did demand was discretion. He’d reminded her of her desire for social esteem and warned she was about to lose all she’d set out to achieve. She’d ignored him, deciding to call his bluff. Other measures had to be taken. He had thought she was intelligent enough to know he would not allow this to go on, and she had pushed him as far as he would tolerate. The bottom line: she was an employee paid to act the part of his wife, and had been compensated very well for that effort. In addition, if she had lived up to the terms, she would have received a million-dollar settlement at the end of a year. Now less than a week away from being free of her, she’d had this accident.
He drew in a breath and blew it out as the doors to the elevator opened. He was stuck with an impetuous, ill-tempered wife in name only, who would most likely milk this amnesia thing for all it was worth. He fought to control his temper.
He needed to call his brothers Cole and Chance, who resided in Calico Springs on the Masters family compound. He hadn’t spoken to either of them since his flight had landed. He supposed he should call Victoria’s mother, too, to tell her she’d be out of the hospital soon. But all Corrine was really worried about was herself and ensuring her rank at the top of the social food chain lasted a while longer. And really, wasn’t that all that mattered? He scoffed at the woman’s preposterous behavior. If one of his brothers had been injured, he would not have stayed home and requested a daily update. He would be there at the hospital, not waiting for a phone call. His brothers would do the same. They showed up for each other. He almost felt sorry for Victoria. After being raised by that woman, it was no wonder she acted the way she did.
Bracing himself, he speed-dialed Corinne’s number and headed for the side entrance door of the hospital, where his car and driver waited.
Two (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)
As the doctor had promised, a nurse arrived at her room with a wheelchair the next afternoon. Victoria had requested that the flowers she’d received be given to other patients who might not have family. She didn’t recognize the names on any of the cards anyway. Her clothing had been discarded when she had been first brought into the ER. Her husband had arranged for some loungewear to be delivered.
They headed toward the front entrance, the nurse pushing the wheelchair, Wade following. As they cleared the automatic glass doors to the outside, she embraced the warm afternoon air and the sounds of normal life all around her. It was summer, the trees were green and plants in full bloom, the colors so bold it was hard to take it all in.
What had she been doing before the accident? Where had she been going when she was hit? She turned her gaze from the flowers to focus on where they were headed now. Directly in front of her was a champagne-colored stretch limo waiting in the circular drive.
“Oh, my gosh,” she uttered in complete surprise when two men stepped out. A driver and a bodyguard? One came around the car to open the rear passenger door for her. She looked up at her husband. “Is this yours?”
“It is.”
“Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever been in a limo before. Maybe at a funeral...”
Wade smiled. “Actually, you have ridden in a limousine many times, but, since you don’t remember, let’s hope you enjoy this ride like it’s your first. And we will certainly steer clear of any cemeteries.”
He placed his hand under her arm and gently helped her stand and take three steps to the limo. Once inside, she leaned back against the rich leather seat and inhaled the new-car scent. Closing the door, Wade walked to the other side and got in next to her. Seconds later, they were off.
The scent of his cologne, distinctly masculine with hints of spices and sandalwood, blended with the rich smell of the leather upholstery. It was a heady aroma.
“Do you need the temperature adjusted?” he asked. “Are you comfortable?”
“I’m fine. It feels strange to be outside again. Good. But strange.”
He nodded as though he understood.
“We’re near Dallas, aren’t we?”
“Yes. You remember Dallas?”
She pointed at the window to his left. “I recognize the skyline.”
He nodded.
“How long have we known each other? Where did we meet?”
He seemed to hesitate, looking out the window before turning to face her. “We met at a party. Several years ago.”
She again let her eyes fall on this man who was positively dripping in sex appeal. It seemed too much to accept he was her husband. He fell into the category of something too good to be true. And didn’t that usually turn out to be right? But she would run with it while it lasted. Until her memory returned, there was little else she could do.
“Let me guess,” she said with a smile. “You saw me from across the room and couldn’t take your eyes off me. It was love at first sight, right?”
He appeared amused. Amused was good. Better than the deadpan stare that was all she’d seen so far.
“You made...an unforgettable impression. As you are now.”
That shot the nurse had given her this morning must have been the cause of her runaway mouth. She wanted to giggle for no apparent reason. But maybe that was normal in her circumstances? She took a deep breath and tried for sincerity.
“How long have we been married?”
“Almost eight months.”
“Practically newlyweds. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember you.”
“Possibly, but not likely.”
She had to agree. Short of an injury like hers, how could she ever forget loving and being loved by a man like Wade Masters? “What do you do? Like, for a living?”
“I have a business. Actually, it’s a family business.”
“Let me guess.” She gave a tiny snort. “You make pizza, and this is the delivery van?”
Again those eyebrows shot up, and the tiny smile returned.
“Close. Avionics, electronics, ranching, Masco Laboratories... I’m sure there must be a Domino’s Pizza in there somewhere.” The gleam was back in his eyes as he tilted his head. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes. No. Depends on what you’ve got.”
Again he turned toward her, giving her a look of surprise. She hadn’t meant it the way he might have taken it, but she couldn’t stop the blush that crawled up her neck. She was hungry, all right. Hungry for knowledge; starving for memories, good or bad. And if he didn’t curb that sexy hint of a smile, she would be well on her way to hungry for him. Who was this guy? How in the hell had she met and married a man like Wade Masters? It didn’t feel right. But at the moment it didn’t feel all that wrong.
“There will be a wide selection when we arrive at the house. You can eat at your leisure.” His voice rolled over her, deep and solemn as he readjusted in his seat. “I’m certain we can meet any needs you might have.”
“Anything?”
He smiled a wide, unpretentious smile. “I’m fairly certain we can keep you well satisfied.”
What needs would she have? More important, what needs would he have, and what expectations would he have of her? She could see him pulling her into his arms and carrying her to a large bed in a master suite for a night of... Oh, God. Moaning softly, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. What was it about this guy that made her thoughts run straight to the gutter? One quick sideways glance and she saw him smirking. Did he read minds? At least he had a sense of humor. While she couldn’t explain it, she couldn’t see herself marrying someone who didn’t. That was the most important thing. It was what got you through everything else in life.
Gathering herself, she raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Do I have any brothers or sisters?” A safe topic.
“No. As far as I know, only your mother and father.” He pulled a cell from his inner suit pocket, glanced at the screen, then put it back. “I have spoken to Corinne daily since the accident. I’m sure she would like to hear your voice. You might want to give her a call.”
“Corinne? Is that my mother’s name?”
“It is.”
“Sounds like some sort of bleach.”
Wade ran a hand over his mouth and jaw as though he didn’t know what to make of that one.
A mother. And a father. Add two more people to the list of folks she just didn’t remember.
A memory suddenly surged through her mind accompanied by dull pain. She was standing just outside the front door of a redbrick house, a blonde woman hugging her. They were both crying. But it didn’t feel like it was her mother.
This memory loss was absolutely the worst thing she’d ever been through. At least that she could remember. The other injuries from the collision took a back seat by comparison.
The rest of the drive passed in quiet contemplation. Who was Wade Masters? Where were they going? She didn’t sense anything sinister about him except maybe a wicked sense of humor. In spite of him being well above normal in the looks department, he was well mannered and courteous, not snobbish, at least not that she’d picked up on. Granted, she’d seen him only two times—that she could recall—but, while he was apparently wealthy, he didn’t give the impression he held himself in higher esteem than anyone else. Neither did he seem like a happily married man. She would have expected him to hold her, kiss her or give reassurances. Something. But he remained aloof. Polite to a fault, but distant.
Eventually the limo turned into a driveway, coming to a stop in front of tall black wrought-iron gates. They opened immediately and the car proceeded up the hill and to the right where a circular drive dipped under a high portico. She had a strong suspicion it was the largest house she’d ever seen. A mansion complete with turrets that made it look more like a castle than a house.
“Is this where you live?” The sheer colossal size of it required confirmation.
He nodded as the driver opened his door. “This is where we live.”
She leaned toward the window and glanced up at the top of one of the towers, then back to her husband. “I guess the ghosts don’t come out until night.”
He looked at her with surprise. One eyebrow lifted higher than the other, and then he once again pursed his lips as though hiding a smile. “I guarantee it. And if you become frightened, I’ll be close by.”
She didn’t think she was a negative person, but if the good doctor hoped coming to live in this place was going to stir any memories, he was sadly mistaken. She might not remember a ride in a limo, but no way would she forget living in a castle.
Yet apparently that was exactly what she’d done.
Her door opened, and a man held out his hand to help her out of the car and into a waiting wheelchair. “Welcome home, madam,” the man said and attempted a smile. Two other men, clearly security, waited on either side of the front door.
The ground floor of the mansion, at least what she could see en route to the elevator, was amazing. Pure elegance even a visiting royal would appreciate. They wheeled through the marble and glass foyer, then slipped by the huge living room to the right and a dining room that could easily seat four dozen people on the left. Beyond was the kitchen. She smiled and waved at the staff who had come out to welcome her home. They looked at each other in surprise. One hesitantly waved back. Before she could ponder that odd reaction, she, Wade and the attendant who pushed her wheelchair were inside of a small elevator, and for the first time, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored walls.
There were few words that could describe the reflected image. Horrible was one. Appalling was another. It was so not her. Her hair hung in long, limp tendrils. Her face was still pretty banged up, although the bruises were fading to a relatively nondescript yellow. Her left eye was bloodshot, and she could see a slight, almost healed cut on her bottom lip. The swelling was going down. She patted her face. Overall, she looked like she’d been in one whale of a fight and had not been on the winning side.
There was a soft ding, and the doors opened onto a wide corridor, the floor inlaid with beautiful white and gold-embossed marble tiles. The attendant wheeled the chair to the right and followed the hallway almost to the end, finally turning into a large bedroom. It was done in pastels, primarily in varying shades of green. Very nice. Very soothing. Very bland.
“Does this suite suit your needs?” Wade asked from the open doorway.
“Yes. It’s great,” she replied. “It’s...big.” The spacious room had a separate sitting area on the far end, with comfy-looking chairs surrounding a fireplace. French doors opened onto a huge terrace. There was even a bar with a small fridge. A luxurious bed with silk wrappings completed the effect.
“Do...you...stay in here as well?”
He watched her almost as though he was measuring the question, and she thought she saw a spark of devious temptation flash in his eyes. “No. My suite is next door.”
A feeling of relief rolled through her. At the same time, it struck her as odd that a newly wedded couple would have separate bedrooms. More than likely he was letting her have her own room, thus giving her space and time to readjust rather than push her to move directly into the master suite. And she was grateful. She wasn’t ready to share a bed with a strange man despite her attraction. And regardless of any marriage certificate that might say otherwise, he was a stranger.
Standing up from the wheelchair, she walked around the room, looking at the paintings and art objects decorating the space. Most of the paintings were by renowned artists, some of which she recognized. There were pictures of flower gardens and old ivy-covered stone walls and gates.
“Either you or your designer has very good taste.”
“You know art?”
She shrugged. “I recognize Monet and Barber. And I guess I know what I like.”
“Do you?”
She pivoted around to face him. Her heart skipped a beat at the look of sensuous suggestion on his face, in his voice. She had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about fine art. Was he flirting with her? Establishing his claim? Or had her imagination overtaken her common sense? Still...he was her husband. Maybe he was reminding her of that fact.
Not sure how to respond, she turned to look at the painting hanging over the mantel. A little girl with long reddish-blond curls stood in the corner of her room, presumably being punished for something she’d done. Her dog, a little brown terrier, stood guard against anyone who would come near his child. A name flashed through her mind. Murphy. She turned to Wade. “Is...Murphy here?”
A sharp frown met her question. “Who?”
“Murphy.”
The gracious warmth of his welcome instantly turned to icy cold foreboding. “There is no one named Murphy in this house.”
His clipped reply indicated she’d struck a nerve. But why? Who was Murphy? Why did she remember that name when there was no face to go with it?
“I have work I need to take care of. Henry, our chef, put a menu next to the phone. I have taken the liberty of arranging your first meal based on the foods you generally like. If it isn’t acceptable to you, feel free to order something else. Call the number on the bottom of the menu once you’ve made your selection.”
“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”
“Your mother’s phone number is on your bedside table in case you don’t remember it.” With a sharp nod, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
What was that all about? She had no idea why simply asking about a name would cause such a change in behavior. His sudden hostility caused regret to surge through her. Apparently there was someone named Murphy who stood between them. It wasn’t a good feeling. How could she remember that name and not remember her own husband? A numbing chill slid over her. Was another man the reason Wade had acted so distant?
A soft knock on her door brought her out of her worried contemplation.
