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Only if someone cared, Faith thought bleakly. In her case, no one did.
‘Faith? Are you awake?’
Resigning herself to the fact that they wouldn’t go away until she’d spoken, Faith reluctantly opened her eyes and the doctor gave a wintry smile.
‘How are we today?’ He spoke in the faintly patronising tone that he obviously reserved for patients.
‘I’m fine.’ No point in telling the truth. ‘Much better.’
‘I expect you’re longing to go home.’
Home? Where was home? For the past year it had been Argentina and she’d thought …
Faith turned her head away, realising with a sickening lurch of horror that she was going to cry. The misery had been bubbling up inside her for days and suddenly it felt almost too enormous to hold back.
With a huge effort of will, she tried to focus her mind on something neutral. She wasn’t going to think about Argentina, she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she didn’t have a job or a home any more, but most of all she wasn’t going to think about …
She gave a tortured groan and curled into a foetal position, her thoughts so agonising that she just wanted to remove them from her head.
‘Are you in pain?’ The doctor leaned towards her, frowning. ‘I can give you something for it.’
Not for this type of pain. Faith squeezed her eyes tightly shut. ‘It’s all a hideous mess.’
‘Your head? It’s nothing that time won’t heal. Your hair will cover the scar.’
‘Not my head,’ Faith muttered. ‘My life.’
‘She’s obviously worrying about her head—how’s the wound, nurse? Everything healing?’
Realising that no one was remotely interested in how she really felt, Faith kept her eyes closed, wishing they’d go away and leave her alone.
‘Last time I saw it everything was healing beautifully,’ the nurse said briskly. ‘It will be a very neat scar.’
On the outside, maybe, Faith thought to herself. But on the inside it was a deep, ugly gash that would never heal.
Clearly oblivious to the true extent of his patient’s trauma, the doctor gave a nod of approval. ‘You’ve made a remarkable recovery considering the condition you were in two weeks ago. We need to start talking about discharging you.’ He cleared his throat and glanced at the chart again. ‘You need to go home to family or friends. You can’t be on your own at the moment.’
Faith’s lips were so dry she could hardly speak. ‘I’ll be fine on my own.’
Just saying the words intensified the sick throbbing in her head.
How had she ended up at this point?
The doctor gave an impatient sigh. ‘You haven’t given us details of your next of kin. There must be someone. Or do you think it’s possible that you are suffering some degree of memory loss after all?’
Faith opened her eyes. ‘My parents died nearly three years ago and I’m an only child,’ she said wearily, wondering how many times she had to repeat herself. ‘And my memory is fine.’ Unfortunately. Given the nature of her memories, she would have paid a great deal for a serious bout of amnesia. Nothing too dramatic. As long as she lost all knowledge of the last couple of months, she’d be happy.
She wanted the whole nightmare erased from her head for ever.
But in her case it wasn’t forgetting that was the problem, it was remembering.
She remembered everything and the memories tortured her.
All she wanted to do was cover herself with the duvet and just sob and sob and the fact that she felt like that was terrifying because it was so unlike her.
Where was her energy and drive? What had happened to her natural inclination to fight problems with grit and determination?
She’d always been resilient. Life could be tough, she knew that.
But although she’d always known that life could be tough, she’d had no idea it could be quite this tough.
Panicked by how truly awful she felt, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the cracked ceiling—but somehow the cracks looked like the curve of a beach and soon the images in her head were of a laughing, naked woman and a spectacularly handsome man.
She gave a groan of denial and covered her face with her hands. It didn’t matter what she did or where she looked, the memories were everywhere. She felt drained and empty, lacking the physical or emotional energy to drag herself out of the dark pit of despair that was sucking her down and down.
In the bed opposite, an old lady rambled and muttered, confused and disorientated by her surroundings. ‘Doctor, doctor!’
Muttering something under his breath to the nurse, the doctor turned. ‘Yes, Mrs Hitchin?’ His manner and tone were a study of exaggerated politeness. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘You can marry me, that’s what you can do!’ The old lady’s tone was sharp. ‘No more messing me around! Do what you promised to do and stop running away from your responsibilities.’
The nurse covered her mouth with her hand to conceal the laugh and the doctor’s face turned a deep shade of beetroot.
‘You’re in hospital, Mrs Hitchin!’ He raised his voice and separated each syllable, as if he were speaking to a very slow child. ‘And I’m a doctor!’
‘Well, I’m glad you finally made something of yourself.’ The old lady waggled a finger at Faith. ‘Don’t believe a word he says to you. Men are all the same. They want all the fun and none of the responsibility.’
Faith gave a choked laugh. ‘I could have done with that advice a few months ago, Mrs Hitchin.’ Then perhaps she wouldn’t have made such a complete and utter wreck of her life.
Another nurse hurried into the room, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glowing. Excitement radiated from her like a forcefield and she had the look of a woman just bursting with serious gossip.
Her eyes slid to Faith and her expression changed to one of awe and fascination. ‘I know you think your memory is fine, Faith,’ she said sympathetically. ‘But I’m afraid we now have evidence that you are suffering from amnesia.’
Faith gritted her teeth. ‘My memory is fine.’
‘Really? Then why can’t you remember that you’re married? You’re married to a billionaire,’ the nurse said faintly. ‘And he’s standing outside right now waiting to claim you. I mean, he’s gorgeous, sexy—’
‘Nurse!’ Dr Arnold interrupted her with a scowl and the nurse blushed.
‘All I’m trying to say,’ she muttered, ‘is that he just isn’t the sort of man any woman would ever forget. If she really doesn’t remember him, then she definitely has amnesia.’
Simmering with impatience, Raul glanced at the Rolex on his wrist, oblivious to the fact that the force of his presence had brought the entire hospital ward to a standstill. Like a thoroughbred racehorse at the starting gate, he radiated coiled, suppressed energy, as confident and unselfconscious in this environment as he was in every other, his powerful legs planted firmly apart, his intelligent dark eyes fixed on the room straight ahead of him.
Female members of staff suddenly found reasons to hover around the central nurses’ station, distracted by the unexpected presence of such a striking man.
Raul didn’t notice.
He was entirely focused on the task in hand and this brief, unexpected delay in reaching his final objective was a thorn of irritation under his richly bronzed skin.
A lesser man might have spent the time worrying that the information he’d received might be wrong, that it wasn’t her. Raul had no such concerns. He only employed the best. His security team had been hand-picked and the possibility that they might have made a mistake didn’t enter his head.
Barely containing his impatience, he stood still for a full thirty seconds—which was twenty-five seconds longer than he’d ever waited for anything in his life before—and then took matters into his own hands and strode purposefully across the corridor and into the six-bedded side ward.
The doctor greeted his sudden entrance with a murmur of disapproval that Raul ignored. His gaze swept the room and came to rest on the slender figure of the woman lying in the bed by the window.
The anger that had been building inside him erupted with lethal force and he ran his hand over the back of his neck in order to stop himself from punching something. And then he took a closer look at the solitary figure staring up at the ceiling and the anger died, only to be replaced by a surge of very different emotions.
Emotions that he didn’t want to feel. Primitive urges that mocked his belief in his own sense of discipline and self-control.
Raul almost laughed. The weakness of man was woman, and that hadn’t changed since the beginning of time. From
Eve in the Garden of Eden and Pandora with her box, for every man there was one woman who seemed to be designed for the express purpose of complicating life.
And for him, that woman was lying in front of him.
He could negotiate the most complex business deal without once losing his clarity of thinking but here, in the same room as her, a witch’s cauldron of emotions stirred to life, clouding everything.
‘Faith.’ His strong voice reverberated round the small room and her head turned, her expressive green eyes widening with horror and disbelief as she saw him.
‘No!’ Immediately she shrank under the blankets and her reaction was like a fist in his gut but the biggest shock was seeing the remains of the bruises on her face and shoulders before they vanished under the covers.
‘What happened to you?’ Two weeks before her mouth had been permanently curved into a happy smile and her blonde hair had rippled down her back. Now it was cropped short in a rough, jagged style that made her eyes look huge and her face pale and vulnerable. And there was no trace of the cheeky, teasing smile that was so much a part of her.
Kiss me, Raul, go on. You know you want to. Forget about work.
That one brief glance had been enough to show him that she’d lost weight. She’d always been fine-boned and delicate but now her skin seemed almost preternaturally pale and her jagged haircut gave her face an almost ethereal quality. When had that happened?
Why hadn’t he noticed?
Something tugged at him and he ruthlessly pushed the feeling away.
She’d brought this on herself. And on him.
The doctor cleared his throat. ‘We were forced to cut her hair when we were dealing with her injuries.’
‘Dios mío, she’s skin and bone.’ Caught broadside by emotions that he hadn’t expected, Raul directed the full force of his anger towards the doctor. ‘Don’t you feed your patients in this hospital?’
Clearly unaccustomed to such full-on confrontation, the doctor fiddled nervously with the charts he was clutching. ‘Faith suffered a head injury,’ he stuttered. ‘She was unconscious for a while. Her rapid recovery is nothing short of remarkable. We saved her life.’
‘Good,’ Raul said coldly, his eyes focusing on the doctor’s badge as he committed the name to memory. ‘Because if you hadn’t then your days of practising medicine would now be over. How was she injured?’
The nurse stepped forward swiftly, obviously hoping to smooth the situation. ‘According to witnesses, she walked in front of a car just outside the airport terminal. It was as if she wasn’t looking.’
Raul strode over to the bed, his mouth tightening as she turned her back on him and pulled the covers even higher.
That simple gesture said more than words ever could and suddenly he was gripped by the unfamiliar tentacles of guilt. He thrust them aside, reminding himself that he had no reason to feel guilty.
She’d done this to them.
He’d been up front and honest from the start. She was the one who’d chosen to play elaborate female games. And it was time she acknowledged that. ‘Look at me!’
The lump in the bed didn’t move and he gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Running from a problem solves nothing. Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?’
The anger had burned inside him day and night for the past two weeks and he’d promised himself that when he finally caught up with her he would make sure that she was left in no doubt about his feelings.
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to respond and then the figure in the bed moved slowly and she sat up.
The words died in his throat.
There was something about her appalling fragility that prevented him from venting the full force of his wrath. She looked as vulnerable and shaky as one of his newborn foals and Raul felt something twist inside him.
He’d always thought of her as strong and vibrant, but there was no sign of the energy and enthusiasm that he’d come to expect from her.
The shapeless hospital nightdress hung from her narrow shoulders, her eyes were shaded by dark bruises and there were scratches on her shoulders and arms.
The usually irrepressible sparkle in her green eyes had been extinguished and she stared straight forward, refusing to meet his gaze.
She looked like a woman who was broken.
Apart from that one, anguished word—’No!’—she hadn’t spoken or glanced in his direction since he’d entered the room. It was as if she was pretending that he wasn’t there.
Reflecting on the damage she’d caused, Raul felt another monumental surge in his tension levels.
Was she sorry? Did she regret what she’d done to their relationship?
He stared in brooding silence at her frozen profile. If it had been any other woman he would have walked away and left her to deal with the situation she’d created. But Faith wasn’t any other woman and something kept his feet nailed firmly to the ground.
Pandora, Eve, Faith ….
Exasperated with his own display of weakness, Raul turned back to the doctor who was now eyeing him with trepidation. ‘What are her injuries?’
‘Well—er—’ The doctor cleared his throat. ‘Despite the seriousness of the accident, she has made a remarkable recovery. She experiences some headaches and a little dizziness from time to time, but the wound on her head is healing well. There is, however, the issue of her memory.’ Accustomed to relatives who were suitably submissive and respectful, he was obviously struggling to cope with Raul’s direct, forceful approach. ‘We have found it difficult to assess the extent of her amnesia.’
‘She doesn’t have amnesia.’ It had taken only one glance for Raul to know that she remembered absolutely everything that had happened between them.
The doctor looked taken aback. ‘But—she doesn’t appear to remember you.’
Raul’s mouth tightened into a grim line and he transferred his gaze to the frozen profile of the woman on the bed. ‘Oh, she remembers,’ he said softly. ‘If her memory was impaired, she wouldn’t be ignoring me. She’d be firing sparks and demanding to know why I took so long to get here. The reason she is refusing to look me in the eye is because her memory is perfectly intact and she’s suffering from a severe attack of guilty conscience, isn’t that right, cariño?’
Her head turned at that, her gaze locked with his and although she didn’t say a single word her eyes sent him straight to hell.
The past swirled and bubbled between them like a dangerous beast just waiting to swallow them whole.
Then she looked at the medical staff. ‘I don’t know who he is,’ she said, her voice remarkably steady. ‘I’ve never seen him before in my life and I don’t like the look of him. It would be quite wrong of you to release me into his care.’
Raul gave a bitter laugh. Ignoring the notices about not sitting on the bed, he settled his powerful frame only inches away from her body. ‘They have no choice but to release you into my care. I’m your only family.’ He thought her eyes grew brighter but when he looked more closely she was staring straight ahead, still studiously ignoring him.
The doctor cleared his throat. ‘You have to admit that her memory seems cloudy where you’re concerned—’
