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“That’s it? Just wait?”
“All those cartoons where they wap amnesia victims over the head to give them back their memory are just that, cartoons. Although…” She studied his annoyed features speculatively. If you turn out to be a bad patient, I might be tempted to try it.”
Lucas heard the laughter threading her voice and instinctively relaxed.
“That’s what he told me, too,” he confessed. “At least, the bit about just waiting. But what am I supposed to do in the meantime? Vegetate?”
Jocelyn flushed as a flood of activities that had nothing to do with vegetation poured through her mind. Not now, she ordered herself. Now she needed to reassure Lucas that everything would be normal. Later she could indulge in daydreams.
“At the moment your job is to lie there and rest,” she told him.
“What a boring scenario,” he grumbled. “Now, if you were offering to share the bed with me…”
“You’re supposed to be avoiding undue excitement.” Jocelyn struggled to sound more sophisticated than she felt.
“In that case, how about some background?” Lucas changed the subject. Tell me what happened to land me here. All that doctor would say is I had an accident and not to worry about it.”
“He doesn’t want you subjected to any stress,” Jocelyn explained.
“He doesn’t think not knowing isn’t stressful?” There really isn’t all that much to know,” Jocelyn said, happy to talk about something that didn’t involve her lying to him.
“We were on our way back to the airport—”
“Back? We don’t live here? And where is here, for that matter?”
“Here is Buffalo, New York. You were here to finalize your buying Bleffords Plastics.”
“And you came along for the ride?”
“I came along because I happen to be your highly qualified administrative assistant,” Jocelyn shot back. She might love Lucas to distraction, but she had no intention of playing the helpless little woman. Even if she was a little rattled at the moment by the whole course of events.
“Really?” His right eyebrow disappeared into his bandage as his surprise showed. You seem much too decorative to be a highly efficient anything.”
“And you seem much too smart to be succumbing to stereotypes! I’m beginning to think that you got hit harder than I thought.”
Lucas grinned at her, fascinated at the way her indignation made her eyes sparkle. “Maybe I’m secretly a closet chauvinist, and having lost my memory I don’t know that I have to pretend.”
“Keep that up and you’ll lose more than your memory—you’ll lose your head. I am a competent professional, and I demand respect for my business skills.”
“What about your skills as a wife?” Lucas slipped the question in.
What was going on? Jocelyn wondered uneasily. Why was Lucas’s every sentence suddenly imbued with sexual meaning? They’d worked together for more than six months and their sexual interaction had been virtually nil. Now all of a sudden his every comment was a double entendre.
But then, she’d never claimed to be his wife before. Apparently this was the way he responded to a wife. On the other hand, the way he normally treated her, as a sexless but valued colleague, was the way he responded to a female employee. There was no doubt about it, she decided. Being treated as a wife was a whole lot more fun.
“I’m long-suffering,” she said repressively.
Lucas grinned at her. Really? Tell me more.”
“I’m not supposed to try to force your memory,” Jocelyn said, not wanting to tell too many outright lies.
“Okay.” Lucas suddenly switched into what Jocelyn recognized as his work mode. So we were in Buffalo on business and then what happened?”
“You decided to stop at a restaurant for dinner on our way to the airport. We were almost to the door of the restaurant when you realized you’d left your cell phone in the car. You went back for it. A driver pulled into the space beside you and skidded on the ice. He pinned you between the cars.” Her voice thinned with remembered terror.
To his intense frustration, her recounting of the accident meant nothing to him. She could have been telling him something that had happened to a complete stranger. Nor did he want to keep pushing her for details, because talking about the accident was clearly upsetting her.
Not only that but his pounding head was making rational thought difficult. And the drugs they’d insisted on giving him tended to make the world distinctly fuzzy around the edges.
“I love you.” He tentatively tried out the words and found to his relief that they sounded exactly right. “I love you, Jocelyn Forester. I love you, Mrs. Lucas Forester.” His voice gained strength as he tried out different variants of her name. Whether he could remember her or not, he was sure he loved her. Nothing that felt so right to say could be a lie.
Jocelyn swallowed, feeling suffocated by guilt. When events had propelled her into her impersonation, she hadn’t thought about how Lucas would react to being told he was married to her.
“It’s your turn,” Lucas said watching her intently.
She’d just have to live with her guilt, she told herself. She couldn’t back out now. Lucas needed her. Needed her to give him enough space to heal. It was the only personal thing she would ever be able to do for him, and she had no intention of failing him.
“I…I love you, Lucas,” she blurted out.
“What do I do?” To her intense relief, he changed the subject.
“You are the sole owner of a medium-size company that makes component parts for lots of things. You inherited the company when your father died five years ago and have since doubled it in size,” she answered promptly.
“Do I have any other family?” Lucas asked.
“Your mother has been dead since you were four, and your father remarried not long after. You have a stepmother and a half brother.”
She studied Lucas narrowly, trying to see if the mention of Bill had caused him to remember anything.
He sighed, having no trouble interpreting her look.
Sorry, I don’t remember a thing about either my family or any kind of widget. Do I like doing whatever it is I do?”
“Yes,” Jocelyn said honestly. You were determined to be the biggest and best of your kind.”
Had his concentration on work taken its toll on his marriage? he suddenly wondered. Was that what was causing the odd vibes he kept picking up from her whenever the conversation got personal?
Yet another question he didn’t have an answer for. But this was hardly the time to move any personal problems they might have to center stage. Not when he couldn’t remember them. Far better to leave them buried for the time being, he decided.
“So who’s running the company while I’m lying here?” he asked. “You?”
“Not me.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I’ve been pacing up and down the hall outside while the doctor rearranged the inside of your head to his liking.”
Lucas grimaced. “It feels like he’s still in there.”
Jocelyn eyed him uncertainly. Was he paler now than when she’d arrived? She wasn’t sure. But she was sure that the lines beside his mouth were deeper.
“Do you need something for the pain?”
“No! No,” he moderated his voice as her eyes widened. “I don’t want any more of their drugs.”
Jocelyn shrugged. “It’s your head and your choice. I just want you to get better.”
“If you aren’t minding the store, then who is?” he asked, returning to the subject of his business.
“Richard has agreed to look after things until you’re well.”
An elderly face with a thatch of white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard flashed through his mind, followed by a feeling of intense relief. The doctor hadn’t been lying. He was going to regain his memory. It was all there. It was just a matter of giving his memories time to work their way to the surface.
“I’ve been thinking about where you can recuperate in peace,” she said slowly. It was a problem to which she’d given a great deal of thought. It had to be somewhere where they wouldn’t run into anyone who knew either of them and would know they weren’t married, and it also had to be someplace away from Bill. Because if Bill were to find out that Lucas had lost his memory…
“And did you reach any conclusions?” Lucas asked.
“Yes, your ski lodge seems our best bet.”
He frowned slightly as he tried to pull an image out of his mind and failed.
“Where is it?” he asked
“In Vermont, near Stowe. A great-uncle on your mother’s side of the family gave it to you when you graduated from college,” she added at his blank look.
“Since the doctor is very emphatic about not wanting you to get overtired, I thought we’d just fly directly to Vermont from the hospital. We can buy any clothes we need up there.”
“All right,” Lucas agreed. He didn’t really care where they went as long as she was with him.
Chapter Three
“How do you feel?” Jocelyn took her eyes off the empty road leading to Lucas’s ski lodge to give him a quick sideways glance, her gaze lingering for a fraction of a second on the scar which started at his temple and ended in his thick hair. It was a bright red at the moment, but the surgeon had assured her it would fade in time.
Lucas’s cheeks appeared slightly leaner than they had been before the accident. As if he’d lost weight during his stay in the hospital. And the lines around the corners of his eyes were more deeply scored. As if the pain he’d endured had widened his normal laugh lines.
“I’m fine,” Lucas said.
“Does your head hurt?” she persisted.
“Nothing an aspirin can’t handle.”
“I hardly think aspirin will work,” Jocelyn said.
“Don’t fuss, woman,” Lucas said. “Haven’t you heard that aspirin is a wonder drug?”
“The wonder is that you’ve come out of this in one piece.”
She shuddered as the memory of his crumpled body lying on the pavement flashed through her mind.
“Except for the minor fact that I can’t remember anything,” he said dryly.
“Your memory will come back.” The surgeon had assured them of it when he’d released Lucas from the hospital that morning.
“It’d better be soon. You’re sure my vice president is competent to run my company?”
“Positive, and like I told you, Christmas is a slack time at work. Everyone has other things on their minds.”
Including me, she thought. Especially me. Jocelyn took a deep breath to try to control the emotions churning through her. Ever since they’d left the hospital, she’d felt as if she’d wandered into that old television show called Fantasy Island. It was as if some powerful wizard had arranged to give her a taste of what she wanted more than anything else in the world. To be Lucas’s wife. But that same wizard had included a nasty wild card in the mix—the knowledge that Lucas might regain his memory at any minute and turn her dream into a nightmare.
Jocelyn nervously chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated Lucas’s reaction to her deception. She could probably make him understand why she’d pretended to be his wife in the first place. Making sure that he received the proper medical attention as soon as possible made sense and could be easily defended. Where it was going to get tricky would be trying to explain why she had continued her impersonation once he was out of danger. Maybe she could tell him that she had been afraid the hospital would contact his half brother to provide care, and she had been worried about what Bill might do?
It had the distinct advantage of being the truth, just not all the truth. But Lucas might not realize that.
But whether he believed her or not, she had to stop worrying about the future or she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the present.
She’d never spent Christmas with someone she loved before, and she was determined to savor this one as long as and as hard as she could.
“Why so serious?” Lucas studied the deserted country road in front of them. “Are you tired after the flight? I can drive for a while. I must know how.”
Jocelyn gave a gurgle of laughter.
She had the most enchanting laugh, he thought. It made him feel warm and happy. As if something wonderful were about to happen.
“Thanks, anyway, but I’ll drive. Finding out how much you remember about driving is not something I want to try on a snowy mountain road.”
“I guess not,” Lucas muttered absently as an image of skiing over the snow briefly flashed through his mind. He could almost feel the icy snow hitting his face and the warmth of the afternoon sun on his back.
“Did you remember something?” Jocelyn noticed his abstracted expression and felt a sudden flash of fear.
Lucas caught the tension in her voice. Clearly his loss of memory bothered her a great deal. Which was hardly surprising, he conceded. Being married to someone who didn’t remember you must be stressful in the extreme. It was no wonder she seemed on edge every time his amnesia was mentioned. It would probably be easier on her nerves if he didn’t mention his disconcerting flashes of memory.
“No, but I’m working on it.” He made his voice purposefully cheerful. “Did we spend last Christmas at this ski lodge we’re going to?”
Jocelyn briefly weighed lying and saying yes, but then decided that the fewer lies she told, the fewer lies she’d have to remember. And apologize for later.
“We weren’t married last Christmas.”
“When did we get married?”
Wildly Jocelyn searched her memory, trying to come up with a date that would be easy to remember. Halloween, she decided. This whole affair had a distinct flavor of trick or treat to it.
“October thirty-first,” she said.
“And what kind of wedding was it? Formal?” He waited hopefully for a flash of memory. For an image, however brief, of Jocelyn in a long, white, flowing dress, her face hidden by a white veil, walking down the aisle toward him. To his disappointment his mind remained a blank.
“No. We just got a license and were married by a justice of the peace,” she said shortly. “Are you sure your head isn’t bothering you? Maybe you ought to try to rest a minute.”
And quit asking her questions that she didn’t want to answer, Lucas drew the obvious conclusion. But why didn’t she want to talk about their wedding? Unless she resented the fact that they had gotten married in what sounded like a hole-in-the-corner affair? But if she had disliked being married by a justice of the peace, why had she agreed to it? A woman as gorgeous and intelligent as Jocelyn was could have her pick of husbands. And she’d picked him. The sense of pride and satisfaction that filled him was quickly followed by a rush of doubt. Why had she picked him?
Drop it, Forester, he told himself. You’re only going to upset her by pushing.
“Maybe a rest is a good idea,” Lucas said, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes to shut out the glare from the bright afternoon sun.
