скачать книгу бесплатно
All those days she had sat holding his hands and he had never squeezed back. Never shown any sign of life in his fingers. They’d just lain there, limp. Breaking her heart. It felt so good to be touching him again. Gaining strength from him.
‘I’ve been so worried!’ She sat on the bed facing him and ran her thumb over the backs of his hands.
He closed his eyes briefly, as if he couldn’t stand the knowledge that she’d been so concerned for him. ‘The doc says we’ve been in a car accident?’
The confusion in his face was heart-rending, but Emily guessed that this was the amnesia that Dr Waters had mentioned. Sam couldn’t remember the crash. Sometimes people’s brains would exclude certain bad experiences or memories, to help prevent itself from feeling hurt. Like a safety mechanism. If that was all that had happened to him then they’d both got away from this lightly.
‘Yes.’
‘Were you hurt?’
The concern in his voice and the way his blue eyes darkened at the thought relieved her. He did care for her! He wasn’t angry at what had happened between them prior to this.
That was good, right? It took something like this to wake people up. To make them notice what was important in life. Each other. They were stronger together than they were apart. Even if they had been disagreeing. Giving each other the cold shoulder.
‘Not really. Just whiplash.’
He frowned. ‘Whiplash can be serious, Em. Have you been checked out by the doctors?’
He reached up to stroke her face, then his hand fell to her shoulders and neck to rub at her muscles, but he must be feeling tired because his hand dropped back to the bed, his eyes closing as he drifted in and out of sleep, before opening them again.
‘Look at me. Weak as a kitten.’
‘You need to rest. You’ve been out of it for ten days.’
‘Ten days?’ He looked upset.
‘They had to put you in an induced coma, Sam. Your brain got shook around in that hard skull of yours.’
He sighed and closed his eyes again and she realised with a sudden pang that he had drifted back to sleep. And she hadn’t had a chance to tell him their news, yet.
It can wait. It’s waited this long. What’s a few more hours?
Right now he was happy to see her. Relieved. All signs of their previous turmoil was gone. They were speaking to each other. Something they hadn’t done properly for weeks, and she’d missed that.
But it was odd, wasn’t it? That he should be so happy to see her? After the last few days of stony silences, the weeks of arguing and disagreement...
She liked it that he was being nice. Concerned about her whiplash, concerned about her health, but she wasn’t used to it. It was throwing her slightly.
Having to wait a little longer to deliver the news that she was pregnant was just fine. Because she had no idea how he would react to that. Probably not very well, and then they would be back to being at war with each other. She didn’t mind holding off on that for a while.
She liked what they had right now, thank you very much. The talking. The concern for each other’s wellbeing. The holding hands.
Emily stared at his hand in hers, lifted it to her mouth and kissed it, inhaling the scent of him, breathing it in like vital oxygen. Then she got up off the bed and settled into her usual chair, staring long and hard at her husband.
She was getting him back. He’d smiled at her!
She felt sure there was a chance...all this just might be okay.
* * *
Sam slowly came to. He had a wicked headache, but he appeared to be still in hospital, attached to God only knew how many wires and monitors and, beside him, her head slumped to her shoulder, asleep, was his beautiful fiancée Emily.
She looked tired. Exhausted, even. Her face was a little pale beneath wave upon wave of that gorgeous hair of hers. But then he assumed she would be. Hadn’t she, or someone, told him that he’d been out of it for ten days? After some accident he couldn’t even recall?
Ten days. What had he missed? Probably nothing too much. That serial he’d been watching on television had been scheduled to show its last episode the other week, so probably that. There was still another month or so before Emily’s birthday, so thankfully not that. He had a big surprise planned. He was hoping to take her to Las Vegas.
It was strange, though. Only ten days and he could swear that her hair seemed longer. A little more sun-bleached. Those honey tones were brighter than normal. And were those new clothes? He hadn’t seen them before. But then again, Em did enjoy shopping. Perhaps she’d gone out and treated herself whilst she’d been waiting for him to recover? A little pick-me-up?
He lifted his head off the pillow to check himself out. There didn’t appear to be any limbs wrapped in bandages, no plaster casts or anything like that. Had he just got a head injury? That would explain the headache, and the fact that he’d been out of it for a while. He hated it that he was laid up in hospital, because they still had so much to do. Not only did they need to tell everyone that Emily had accepted his proposal of marriage, but there was so much to do at work, too!
His idea, of building an exclusive five-star birth centre—the Monterey Birth Centre—was close to fruition. They’d toured the halls just last week and everything had looked perfect. Almost ready for their Grand Opening.
It was going to be massive. He wanted the Monterey to be the premier birthing centre in the whole of the US. He wanted people to aspire to have their babies there, to be treated as if they were royalty and enjoy the ultimate birthing experience, which he and his team would provide whilst their patients were being fed with delectable dishes provided by a team of Michelin-starred chefs in the kitchen.
It had taken a lot of planning. And sourcing funding. But he’d found people—mainly people whose babies he had already delivered safely—to sponsor and endorse the Monterey. He’d secured a great board of directors—along with himself and Emily, of course—and his excitement for this project had driven him onward like nothing he had ever experienced before. There’d been so much to think about! But he enjoyed that.
Asking Emily to marry him had been the icing on the cake. And she’d said yes. So he guessed now he’d be busy planning a wedding, too!
They hadn’t been going out long. Six months? But there was something about her—something that had reached out and grabbed him. She’d seemed so...vulnerable when they’d first met, and he’d been cautious not to scare her with his desire to be by her side. He’d not been able to pinpoint the source of that vulnerability and, to be honest, they’d both been so busy at work, and setting up the Monterey, that it hadn’t seemed all that important after a while.
Emily had blossomed by his side, driven on by their shared vision. She was everything he could have wished for and he loved her deeply. She cared for and loved delivering babies as much as he did.
But today she looked exhausted. She must have been handling any last hiccups at the birth centre, working and having to deal with his accident and their families all by herself. No wonder she looked shattered. Had they put off the Grand Opening whilst they’d waited for him to recover?
For a brief moment he just lay there and stared at her, his heart swelling with love for the woman at his side, but after a minute or so he couldn’t stand it any more and reached out to take her hand. Needing to touch her. To connect.
She blinked herself awake in seconds. ‘Sam?’
He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, pressed a kiss upon it. ‘Sleeping Beauty.’
She glanced at her watch in confusion. ‘I’ve been asleep for three hours!’ She rubbed at her eyes and then glanced at him with concern. ‘How are you? Are you in any pain?’
‘Just a headache.’
‘Should I call a nurse?’
‘No, it’s fine. It’s understandable, considering my head got bashed. I’m sure there’s some morphine being dripped in to me somewhere...’ He looked up at the various drips and then smiled at her. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He squeezed her fingers, wishing he could be holding her in his arms. Wishing he could get her to come and lie beside him upon the bed. He needed to feel her next to him.
She looked a little apprehensive. ‘You’ve been in a coma.’
‘So you keep saying. But what about you? How are you doing? Any problems with Monterey I need to know about?’
Emily frowned and shook her head. ‘No. It’s all going very well.’
He let out a sigh. ‘That’s great news. How did Harry get on with the window treatments? Did he make the changes we asked him to?’
His fiancée looked at him, lines furrowing her brow. ‘What?’
‘The curtains and sashing in The Nightingale Suite. We decided to change them to that lighter gold colour. Has he done it yet? If he hasn’t we need to get on that—the Grand Opening is only a few days away.’
She continued to look at him with puzzlement. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The curtains were too dark. That suite is going to be our most prestigious—we want it right for the press tour. Think of the spread of pictures...’
‘Press tour? We haven’t had a press tour since...’ Her voice drifted away and she suddenly looked at him, her eyes searching his face as she sucked in a breath. ‘Sam, what day do you think it is?’
He closed his eyes and thought about it. He’d proposed on Friday, he’d been in a coma for ten days, so today had to be... ‘Monday? Tuesday, maybe?’
She shook her head, her choppy blonde locks shimmering around her shoulders. ‘No. I mean the month. The year.’
Month and year? What was she talking about? He’d been out for ten days, they’d said! He told her the date and watched as what little colour there was leeched from her face. She turned away from him, her curtain of honey-blonde hair hiding her face from his as she pulled her hands free of his grasp.
Her recoiling from him made him feel nervous. What didn’t he know? ‘Why are you asking? I’m not that much out of step, am I?’
He heard her sniff. Watched as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small hankie, dabbing at her eyes before she turned back to face him, bracing herself to prepare to say something she clearly thought he wouldn’t be ready to hear.
‘Sam... We’ve been married for eighteen months. The Monterey has been open and running for just over a year now.’
Sam stared at her hard. He swallowed painfully and his hands scrunched up the bedding as he made fists.
Eighteen months?
No! That’s ridiculous...
‘Why would you say that? Why would you even play a trick like that?’
A tear dripped onto her cheek and with clear-cut pain in her voice she said, ‘I’m not lying to you.’
‘Emily...’
‘Sam, please, listen—’
But he wasn’t listening. Not any more. Em was playing some cruel trick on him, and he didn’t know why, but the doctors would have to tell him the truth! The nurses would. He’d make them show him a newspaper or something. This was completely ridiculous. There was no way that he’d lost all that time. He’d know. There’d be signs!
Sam stabbed at the button that would call a nurse to his bedside and kept doing so, ignoring Emily’s pleas, her cries. She was standing now, her hand covering her mouth, looking at him with those wide, tear-filled eyes...
The door opened and a nurse he hadn’t seen before came in. She glanced at Emily in concern before turning to him. ‘Mr Saint?’
‘I need to see the doctor in charge of my care.’
The nurse kept on looking between the two of them, not sure exactly what had happened. ‘Dr Waters has gone home for the evening. I can get—’
‘Get someone! Someone who knows what they’re talking about!’ He glared at Emily, angry at her, and watched as she snatched up her handbag and ran from the room.
The nurse nodded and hurried out, and with both women gone he felt his anger deflate slightly.
Married eighteen months? Emily was crazy. Perhaps she’d had the bump on the head and not him!
He lay in the bed, fury surging through him, and waited for someone who knew what they were talking about to come and tell him the truth.
There was no way he had lost that amount of time.
CHAPTER TWO (#u31ac17c8-c490-5205-b287-fc7855c28e75)
EMILY RAN FROM Sam’s room, throwing her bag to the floor and sagging against the wall opposite. She slid down it until she sat hunched on the floor, like a puppet without her strings.
He couldn’t remember! He had no idea of how much time had passed! He thought...he thought that... She heard his words once again, spoken with such certainty, such concern. ‘How did Harry get on with the window treatments? Did he make the changes we asked him to?’
Window treatments?
I remember! It was a week before the Grand Opening. He’d proposed just the night before...
The nurse who had followed her out of Sam’s room came over to her, hunched down and draped her arm softly around her shoulders. ‘Are you okay, Mrs Saint?’
She could barely breathe...so, no, she wasn’t okay. But she managed to suck in a deep, steadying breath and struggle back to her feet. Another breath and she nodded that she was all right.
‘The doctor told me... Dr Waters...she told me that Sam had a little amnesia, but I thought that she meant that...that he’d forgotten the accident. Not two whole years of his life!’
It was so much for her to take in. And she couldn’t imagine how he felt! Well, she didn’t have to, did she? He was furious at the idea. And she could understand why. Sam was a driven man, always pushing himself to fill every second of his life and enjoy it. The man didn’t sit still for a minute.
And he’d forgotten it all. The opening of the birth centre. The massive celebrations...the parties. The first birth and all the births since. The amazing write-ups they’d received, the recommendations, the people who were attracted to the Monterey—celebrities, the rich... Royalty had even given birth there.
And not just everything that had happened at work. If it were true—if he really didn’t remember—then he’d also forgotten their wedding. The preparations, the wedding night, the honeymoon in Paris...
The arguments... The fact that I told him I was going to leave him!
Emily bit down hard on her lip and accepted a plastic cup of water from the nurse, who had hurried to the small self-service station in the corridor. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll page the on-call doctor.’
Emily nodded. ‘Thank you.’ She smiled weakly at the nurse, noting the relief on her face, her name badge—Melanie. ‘And I think you’d better show him a webpage, or perhaps a newspaper. Prove the date to him. I’m not sure he believes me.’
Melanie looked uncertain. ‘I think maybe the doctor ought to do that.’
‘Maybe. Or perhaps I ought to do it? Do you have a copy of today’s paper?’
Not that she wanted to go in there and do that to him. Prove to him that all that she’d said was true. That he was a man out of time with everyone else.
How did you get your head around something like that?
‘I’d like whoever’s on call to talk to both of us. I need to know what this means. Why it’s happened. What we should be doing...’ Her thoughts drifted off onto some nightmarish plane where Sam never regained those two years and she had to fill him in on everything. The long hours he’d put in, his absences from home, the arguments...
And somehow I need to tell him I’m pregnant too!
She felt sick. The weight of all this duty pressed down upon her. A thick ball of nausea sat low and curdled in her stomach and she could taste bile in the back of her throat, despite the drink of cool, refreshing water from the cup. Was there an easy way to tell a man that you were married, but that the two of you had been arguing constantly and that just under two weeks ago you’d told that same man you were going to leave him?
Because you refused to have a child with me and, oh, by the way, I’m actually pregnant! I found out after the accident. They did tests.
