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Did You Say...Wife?
Judith McWilliams
THE BOSS HAD AMNESIA……and thought Jocelyn was his wife! Little did the domineering CEO know that the woman watching him with a love-softened gaze was none other than his secretary, Jocelyn Stemic. Though Lucas Forester had regained bits of his memory, he couldn't remember one wifely thing about her–not their wedding day or passionate nights together. But one thing was certain: he wanted to be her husband in every sanctioned way.Jocelyn had no choice but to keep up the amorous charade. After all, loving Lucas was easy–and being his "bride" was her deepest fantasy fulfilled. The hard part would be returning to her lonely life once her beloved boss discovered she wasn't the woman he thought she was…


“This doesn’t seem familiar,”
Lucas muttered, and Jocelyn froze in sudden fear.
“What do you mean?” she asked cautiously.
“I mean shaking your hand just doesn’t feel right. Not like when I talk to you. That feels natural, but shaking your hand doesn’t.”
“Probably because we haven’t shaken hands all that often, whereas, we talk all the time,” she said truthfully.
Lucas gave her a blinding smile equally mixed with devilment and relief. “Of course, I should have thought of that myself. Married couples don’t go around shaking hands, do they?”
Jocelyn blinked, trying to pull her attention away from the intoxicating effect of his smile long enough to focus on what he was saying.
“Kissing would be familiar,” he said softly, gently pulling her close.…
Dear Reader,
The summer after my thirteenth birthday, I read my older sister’s dog-eared copy of Wolf and the Dove by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and I was hooked. Thousands of romance novels later—I won’t say how many years—I’ll gladly confess that I’m a romance freak! That’s why I am so delighted to become the associate senior editor for the Silhouette Romance line. My goal, as the new manager of Silhouette’s longest-running line, is to bring you brand-new, heartwarming love stories every month. As you read each one, I hope you’ll share the magic and experience love as it was meant to be.
For instance, if you love reading about rugged cowboys and the feisty heroines who melt their hearts, be sure not to miss Judy Christenberry’s Beauty & the Beastly Rancher (#1678), the latest title in her FROM THE CIRCLE K series. And share a laugh with the always-entertaining Terry Essig in Distracting Dad (#1679).
In the next THE TEXAS BROTHERHOOD title by Patricia Thayer, Jared’s Texas Homecoming (#1680), a drifter’s life changes for good when he offers to marry his nephew’s mother. And a secretary’s dream comes true when her boss, who has amnesia, thinks they’re married, in Judith McWilliams’s Did You Say…Wife? (#1681).
Don’t miss the savvy nanny who moves in on a single dad, in Married in a Month (#1682) by Linda Goodnight, or the doctor who learns his ex’s little secret, in Dad Today, Groom Tomorrow (#1683) by Holly Jacobs. Groom Tomorrow (#1683) by Holly Jacobs.
Enjoy!
Mavis C. Allen
Associate Senior Editor, Silhouette Romance

Did You Say…Wife?
Judith McWilliams

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Books by Judith McWilliams
Silhouette Romance
Gift of the Gods #479
The Summer Proposal #1562
Her Secret Children #1648
Did You Say…Wife? #1681
Silhouette Desire
Reluctant Partners #441
A Perfect Season #545
That’s My Baby #597
Anything’s Possible! #911
The Man from Atlantis #954
Instant Husband #1001
Practice Husband #1062
Another Man’s Baby #1095
The Boss, the Beauty and the Bargain #1122
The Sheik’s Secret #1228

JUDITH MCWILLIAMS
began to enjoy romances while in search of the proverbial “happily-ever-after.” But she always found herself rewriting the endings, and eventually the beginnings, of the books she read. Then her husband finally suggested that she write novels of her own, and she’s been doing so ever since. An ex-teacher with four children, Judith has traveled the country extensively with her husband and has been greatly influenced by those experiences. But while not tending the garden or caring for family, Judith does what she enjoys most—writing. She has also written under the name Charlotte Hines.
Memorandum—ROUGH DRAFT

Dear Mr. Tarrington,
Please let this memo serve as my official resignation. I imagine you may be shocked, but I must move on to face new challenges in my life. I did enjoy being your assistant. The only explanation I can offer for my leaving is that, well, I’m in love with you.
Sincerely,
J. Stemic

Contents
Prologue (#u547a393a-4971-5c04-808b-df5f5cde8b50)
Chapter One (#u02dc7de7-953f-5867-a001-96af3cfc90f4)
Chapter Two (#u6b6896b6-7085-5d51-acee-a60228a6d923)
Chapter Three (#u4ff94241-9074-54d0-99e1-0479f9d828e0)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
Tomorrow Lucas would be back! The knowledge warmed Jocelyn far more than the camel hair coat she was wearing. In—she checked the time on her delicate gold watch—precisely fourteen hours and twenty minutes she would see his beloved face again.
The elevator she was riding in came to a smooth stop on the ground floor, and the doors silently slid open. Automatically she headed across the broad expanse of black marble that covered the ground floor of Forester Enterprises.
“Good night, Harry.” Jocelyn smiled happily at the elderly guard sitting behind the reception desk.
“Night, Miss Stemic.” Harry smiled back. “You sure look chipper. Got a heavy date tonight?”
For a brief moment an image of Lucas’s leanly chiseled features filled her mind. His dark eyes glittered with emotion. His lips were curved in a sensual smile that sent her heartbeat into overdrive. What would it be like to have a date with Lucas? she wondered. To have him look at her with love and longing, instead of with his normal impersonal friendliness? It would be mind-boggling, she thought, answering her own question. World changing. Her world, at least. The closest thing to heaven on earth she was ever likely to find.
“He must really be something to send you off into a trance like that,” Harry teased.
“That he is,” Jocelyn agreed wholeheartedly and then hurried toward the outside doors before Harry could ask any more questions. Questions she couldn’t answer. She could hardly tell him that she was head-over-heels in love with a man who viewed her as nothing more than a highly competent administrative assistant. It sounded pathetic, but it wasn’t.
Just because Lucas didn’t love her at the moment didn’t mean that he might not come to love her in the future, she assured herself. After all, she hadn’t loved him at first sight, either. When she’d interviewed for the job as his administrative assistant, she’d only thought he was incredibly sexy. It hadn’t been until she’d worked with him for a few weeks that her feelings had developed into love.
It was quite possible that, given time, his liking for her might deepen enough for him to forget his determination never to become emotionally involved with a woman who worked for him. And she had time. Lots of time. Her whole lifetime.
She smiled as she shoved open the heavy, plate-glass door and caught the fragrant whiff of pine from the wreath hanging on it. It was the Christmas season, and anything was possible. Absolutely anything.
Jocelyn stepped outside, and her breath caught in her lungs as a gust of icy wind slapped her across the face. Bending her head, she hurried across the almost empty parking lot intent on getting to her car before she froze.
“Hey, babe.” The irritating greeting scraped across her nerves a second before a hand closed around her upper arm. The hand jerked, pulling her against a hard masculine chest, and a man’s arms embraced her.
Jocelyn instinctively tore herself out of them. She didn’t want any man except Lucas hugging her.
“You can’t still be mad at me, babe. Not after all these months,” he said. “Hell, everyone sleeps together these days. I’m the one who should be mad. You ruined a perfectly good weekend. To say nothing of all the time I wasted dating you with nothing to show for it.”
Ignoring him in the hopes he’d go away, Jocelyn pulled her remote opener out of her coat pocket and unlocked her car.
To her extreme annoyance, he hurried around the hood of her car and slipped into the seat beside her.
Jocelyn pushed back a stray tendril of her chestnut hair yanked out of the neat chignon she normally wore to work by the vicious wind, briefly wondering what Bill was doing here. She hadn’t seen him in more than a year.
Deciding she didn’t care enough to even ask, she said, “Get out of my car.”
“Not yet. You and I need to have a talk, babe. I need help, and you’re going to give it to me.”
“Not this side of hell,” Jocelyn said flatly.
“Oh, I think you will.” His gloating expression sent a premonition of disaster through her. “You wouldn’t want old Lucas to find out that his oh-so-efficient administrative assistant and the half brother he hates were lovers, now would you?”
“We weren’t lovers!”
“You could try telling him that, but which of us do you think he’ll believe when I show him this. Mmm?”
Bill handed her a sheet of paper.
Gingerly Jocelyn took it with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach—a feeling that plummeted into nausea as she read. It was the copy of a receipt for a hotel room made out in her name and Bill’s. And unfortunately it was real.
Late last January he’d invited her on a skiing weekend in the Poconos. Thinking it sounded like fun, she’d agreed to go on the condition that they have separate rooms and that she pay all her own expenses. But when they’d arrived at the resort, she’d discovered that Bill had canceled her room earlier in the week and registered her into his.
Since Jocelyn had driven up from Philadelphia with Bill and the only local car rental place was closed for the night, she didn’t have any way to leave. The final straw was when she had tried to get her own room and been told that the lodge was filled to capacity.
Angry and frustrated, as much at her own gullibility as at Bill’s scheming, she had told Bill exactly what she thought of him. Then she had dragged half the blankets off the suite’s one bed and had curled up on the couch in the sitting area to spend a very uncomfortable night. First thing in the morning she left. It had been the last time she’d seen Bill.
“How did you know I was working for Lucas?” she said, trying to give herself time to think.
“Dear cousin Emmy. She was bragging about how she’d helped you find the job as old Lucas’s administrative assistant.”
“But why contact me now? I’ve had this job for six months.”
“Because I’ve suffered a few financial reverses.”
Bill shoved his fingers through his perfectly barbered hair. “To put it bluntly, I’ve spent every penny Dad left me, and if I can’t find a new source of income—”
“You’ll have to go to work like the rest of us?” she said unsympathetically. “Blackmailing me won’t help you. My entire life’s savings wouldn’t keep you for a week.”
“Not you, you stupid witch! Lucas.”
Jocelyn grimaced. “Surely you can’t think I have his power of attorney?”
“You always did think small,” he said coldly. “I don’t want to embezzle from the company. I want to take over the company. I can sell it for a fortune. It should have been mine, anyway.”
“Lucas’s father left it to him.” Jocelyn repeated what Emmy had told her.
“I think Lucas substituted a fake will for the real one. Mom does, too.”
Jocelyn watched as his mouth suddenly compressed, giving him a mean, vicious look, and she shivered, glad they were in an open parking lot in full view of any passersby.
“Has it occurred to either of you that Lucas’s father might not have had any choice but to leave the company to Lucas?” Jocelyn said. “From what Emmy said, the company originally belonged to Lucas’s mother. Maybe it was—” she gestured ineffectively “—whatever the modern-day equivalent of an entail is?”
“Not a chance. Mom was very careful to look up Dad’s first wife’s will before she married him. Lucas’s mother left everything she owned to her husband. No, the only explanation for why Dad didn’t leave the company to me was because Lucas substituted a fake will. And I want you to help me find the real one.”
“Use your head, Bill,” Jocelyn tried to reason with him. “Even if, for the sake of argument, there had been another will, why would Lucas keep the original? He would destroy it the first chance he got.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Bill insisted. “He’d want to be able to gloat over it, thinking about how he’d outsmarted me and Dad. So you’re going to help me find that will or I’ll tell Lucas about us being lovers. And then where will your job be?”
Down the tubes, Jocelyn thought with horror. Just like her life. She stared blindly out the windshield at the wind-whipped snowflakes that had begun to fall.
“Think about it, babe. I’ll be in touch.” He gave her a self-satisfied smirk and got out of the car.
Numbly Jocelyn watched him swagger over to the silver Porsche parked behind her and get in.
What did she do now? she wondered frantically. She didn’t have the slightest doubt that Bill would carry out his threat. Not only carry it out, but take a great deal of pleasure in doing it. There was a sadistic streak in the man a mile wide.
Which meant that she had to do something before he could act. But what? She closed her eyes and tried to think, not even noticing the bitter cold inside the car. Blind panic filled every cell of her consciousness. There was simply no room left for any other sensation.
“It isn’t fair,” she muttered as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, blinking back the tears that blurred her vision. But then, very little in her life to date had been fair, she thought tiredly.

Chapter One
Jocelyn resisted the impulse to pull her thick winter coat more snugly around her, knowing that the chill she was feeling wasn’t from the weather outside. It was coming from the silent man beside her.
Surreptitiously she studied Lucas Forester, her eyes lingering on the slight cleft in the middle of his square jaw. Longingly her gaze moved upward, searching for some hint of thawing in his formidable reserve, however slight. She couldn’t find one. His lips were compressed, and his brown eyes were staring straight ahead. He could have been alone in the car for all the notice he was taking of her.
In just eight days she would have worked out her notice and she’d have to leave. Leave and never see him again. Panic filled her, but she refused to even acknowledge it. There was no point. One thing her miserable childhood had taught her, and taught her well, was never to rail against the Fates. It did no good. The Fates simply didn’t give a damn. Either that or they had it in for her personally. And after this latest turn of events, she was beginning to wonder.
She chewed on her lip in impotent frustration. It was all so unfair. She hadn’t done anything except to briefly think that Bill Forester might be someone special. It hadn’t taken her very long to realize she was wrong. To figure out that he was an egomaniac who had exactly two interests in life. Himself and the pursuit of pleasure.
Lucas on he other hand…Instinctively her gaze returned to his beloved profile. Lucas’s hard work had more than doubled the worth of his company in the five years since his father’s death. And where he might take it in the next five years…
Pain lanced through her at the knowledge that she wouldn’t be there to see him do it. At the thought of a future that didn’t include daily contact with Lucas.
She’d get over it, she told herself, trying desperately to believe it and failing miserably. Lucas Forester made every man she had ever met fade into insignificance.
“I think I’ll stop before we get to the airport for dinner,” Lucas stated, and Jocelyn barely suppressed a shudder at his harsh tone. The indulgent, patient man she’d worked with for the past six months had vanished ten seconds after reading her resignation. If only it hadn’t been necessary to give notice. If only she could have just not shown up for work. At least then she could have taken away happy memories of their last weeks together. Instead she would be left with the memories of a stranger. A rigidly polite, icily cold stranger who made no secret of the fact that he was furious at her sudden decision to quit. And for the flimsiest of reasons, as he’d pointed out to her when, in response to his demand to know why, she’d muttered something inane about needing time to find herself.
“Is that all right with you?” Lucas demanded, and Jocelyn jumped as the clipped sound of his voice sliced through her thoughts.
“Yes, that’s fine,” she hastily agreed.
“There’s a place a few miles ahead that serves decent meals. Not that it would have to be much to be better than airline food,” he said.
“No,” Jocelyn answered cautiously, not sure if his comment called for an answer. Apparently it hadn’t because he lapsed into silence again, concentrating on maneuvering over the icy patches the snowstorm had left on the road.
Stifling a sigh, Jocelyn resolutely focused on the dismal landscape outside the window. Buffalo in December looked as desolate as her heart felt.
Lucas shot a quick glance at the delicate lines of her averted profile and felt the now-familiar, stomach-churning mix of anger and betrayal flood him again. How could she even consider leaving him? For six months they had been a team. For six months they had worked closely together, laughing at the same things, feeling the same sense of outrage at the same societal ills, arguing amicably over the best way to fix those ills. He’d gone from thinking she was the best administrative assistant he’d ever had to believing that she was unique, a woman without a hidden agenda. A woman who could be trusted. He’d actually believed that she liked him, Lucas Forester the man, and not Lucas Forester the wealthy industrialist who could bankroll her every indulgence.
He’d gone from an abstract appreciation of her beauty to a realization that she was the most incredibly sensual woman he’d ever met. He’d spent long nights imagining all the ways he wanted to make love to her. He’d actually begun to believe that it could be safe to become emotionally involved with someone he employed. That business and pleasure could be successfully combined.
And with one short, typewritten page she’d shattered every one of his beliefs. In the length of time it had taken him to read her resignation, he’d realized that he’d been wrong. Dead wrong. None of the loyalty and liking she’d projected toward him were real. Not even the interest she’d shown in her job had been real.
Hell, she hadn’t even bothered to lie about having found another position. She’d given him some song and dance about taking time off to find herself. What she’d undoubtedly found was some poor sucker who was willing to buy her what she wanted without the necessity of working for it.
Anger burned painfully in his chest. He was lucky, he told himself. Lucky to have found out that Jocelyn was just another fortune hunter before he had given her even an inkling that he…
Lucas instinctively shied away from examining exactly what he did feel for her, because it didn’t make any difference. In eight more days she would be gone, and he’d never see her again. And he was glad, he told himself. His father’s second marriage had taught him the absolute futility of loving a woman who wanted what a man owned and not what he was.
If only…He resolutely squashed the thought. Dwelling on might-have-beens was totally pointless.
A few miles further up the road, he caught sight of the restaurant he was looking for and, flipping on the turn signal, pulled into the lot. It took him a moment to find a place to park. It appeared that many other travelers were taking a break from the bad road conditions.
He pulled into one of the two last spaces and cut the engine. Getting out, he automatically rounded the car to open the door for Jocelyn, only to find that she had already scrambled out. Almost as if she were telling him that she wouldn’t accept anything from him, he thought sourly. Not even an exhibition of good manners.
Frustrated, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked across the parking lot beside her. They were at the door before he realized that he’d forgotten his briefcase, which contained his cell phone. He needed to check in with Richard, his senior vice president, and find out what was going on back at the office.
“I forgot my cell phone.” He bit out the words, and Jocelyn shuddered as their rough edges grated across her nerves. “Go inside. I’ll be in as soon as I get it.”
Without another word, Lucas turned on his heel and headed back toward the rented car.
Jocelyn watched his lean figure as he walked away from her, wanting to run after him to explain why she had to leave. But the impulse died instantly. It wouldn’t work. She knew it wouldn’t work. She’d been over and over her options in her mind a million times. After his father’s disastrous second marriage to his secretary, Lucas was determined never to become emotionally involved with a woman who worked for him. When you added that bias to the fact that she had not only dated his hated half brother but had spent a night alone in a hotel room with him…
There was no way Lucas’s casual liking for her would overcome both his own prejudices and the web of lies Bill would weave. Even if Lucas didn’t fire her, he would view her with suspicion forever after. And she couldn’t bear that.
Damn Bill! she thought savagely. How could he do this to her? Because he didn’t think of her as a real person, she answered her own question. Bill moved through life as if he was the only real person in the world and everyone else was simply shadowy figures who had been put on earth to serve his needs.
Learn from the experience and go on. She repeated the mantra she had developed during a childhood spent in the uncertainties of foster care. But the thought brought no comfort. As far as she was concerned, after loving Lucas there was no place to go. No place but down. Down into a seemingly bottomless pit filled with pain and hopeless despair.
Maybe…
Jocelyn’s absorption in her problems was broken by the black sedan that had suddenly appeared in the parking lot. It was going much too fast.
With a sudden spurt of speed the driver swung the car into the empty parking space next to Lucas, intent on beating out the minivan approaching the space from the opposite direction.
Jocelyn’s breath caught in her throat as the sedan hit a patch of ice and began to skid sideways.
Sheer terror wrapped its clammy tentacles around Jocelyn’s mind, freezing her in place. Horrified, she watched as the driver tried to regain control of his car and failed. The car continued its skid. There was an audible thump followed by the heart-rending sound of crunching metal as the sedan crashed into Lucas’s car.
“No, please, God,” Jocelyn whispered incoherently, straining to see Lucas over the bulk of the black sedan.
As if the sound of her voice were a key, she was suddenly released her from the paralyzing effects of her terror.
She sprinted across the parking lot intent on reaching Lucas. Her mind refused to even contemplate the idea that it might be too late to help him. The thought of a world that didn’t contain the man she loved was too horrific to even contemplate.
She reached the sedan, and a quick glance showed her that Lucas was unconscious and trapped between his rental car and the sedan. Trapped and bleeding badly.
Racing around to the passenger side of the sedan, she pulled the door open. The middle-aged driver looked up and began to babble, “I didn’t mean to hit him. It wasn’t my fault! I slipped on the ice. It wasn’t my fault, I tell you.”
Furious that he was wasting time trying to justify his actions instead of helping Luke, Jocelyn grabbed the man’s coat and, fueled by a surge of adrenaline that left her light-headed, yanked him out of the car.
“It’ll be your fault if you don’t get him help!” Jocelyn yelled at him as she shoved him backward. “Go call an ambulance.”
“An ambulance?” the man parroted and then, when Jocelyn took a step toward him, hurriedly turned and starting running toward the restaurant.
Jocelyn slipped into the driver’s seat of the man’s car and turned the key in the ignition. To her profound relief, the engine turned over. Keeping her foot firmly on the brake so that the car didn’t jump forward, she gently eased the car into Reverse. Once she was sure she was completely clear of Lucas, she hastily backed it completely out of the way and cut the engine.
Jumping out of the car, she ran back to Lucas who was lying on the pavement in a pool of blood.
She dropped to her knees beside him, trying to figure out where all the blood was coming from. His head, she quickly realized. She had to stop the bleeding, she thought as she watched the blood oozing from a wound that started on his right temple and ended somewhere in his thick brown hair.
Reaching into his inside suit pocket, she yanked out the pristine white handkerchief he always carried but never used.
The steady beat of his heart as her hand brushed across his broad chest steadied her somewhat. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it appeared, she tried to tell herself. Head wounds always looked worse than they really were because of all the blood. Anyone who watched television knew that.
Act now, worry later, she told herself, firmly pressing the cloth against the wound.
“Let me in there, miss. I’m a doctor.” A strange man knelt beside her. His large, competent-looking hand closed over her makeshift bandage.
“Honey, get my bag out of the trunk.” The man tossed the command over his shoulder.
An interminable moment later a plump, middle-aged woman carrying a black leather bag gently pushed Jocelyn out of the way and took her place.
“Don’t you worry, dear,” the woman told her. “My husband is as good as they come, and in my heyday I was one of the best O.R. nurses going.”
“That’s nice,” Jocelyn muttered inanely, shivering convulsively as she retreated just far enough to give them room to work. If anything happened to Lucas, she didn’t think she’d ever feel warm again.
Jocelyn closed her eyes and tried to pray, but she couldn’t form a single coherent thought. The sight of Lucas’s white, blood-stained face lying on the black tarmac filled her mind to the exclusion of everything.
“Good, the ambulance is here,” she heard the doctor say, and Jocelyn turned around to see a green-and-white ambulance, its red lights flashing, pulling into the parking lot. Close on its heels was a black-and-white police cruiser.
“Unless I miss my guess, your husband is going to need surgery immediately,” the doctor continued. “It’s a good thing you’re here to give permission. You are his wife, aren’t you?” he asked, suddenly noticing her ring-less fingers.
“Yes.” Jocelyn had no compunction about lying. She’d do whatever it took to make sure Lucas got the help he needed.
“We work together, and I never wear my rings at the office.” She tried to explain away her lack of a wedding ring.
She turned as the ambulance stopped and a husky man and a tall, thin woman jumped out. The man ran to Lucas, took one look and yelled something to the woman. She ran around the back of the ambulance, swung open the doors and yanked a large, red metal box out of it. Racing to Lucas, she squatted beside the doctor and her colleague.
“I tell you it wasn’t my fault, Officer!” The sedan driver’s whiny voice rasped across Jocelyn’s ragged nerves.
She swung around and, her anger fueled by her stark fear for Lucas, snapped, “If you hadn’t been going too fast, you wouldn’t have skidded.”
“What’s the name of…” The policeman glanced down at Lucas’s quiet form and winced.
“Lucas Forester,” Jocelyn supplied.
“And this is his wife, Officer,” the doctor said. “I’ll be in the restaurant if you should need to talk to me.
“Try not to worry, my dear. We have an excellent local hospital.” The doctor patted Jocelyn’s shoulder and then turned and left.
Reaching into his pocket, the policeman pulled out a tissue and handed it to her.
“Wipe your face, Mrs. Forester. As cold as it is out here, your tears will freeze to your skin.”
Tears? Jocelyn ran the back of her hand across her cheek, shocked to find it wet with tears. She scrubbed them away.
“I tell you it wasn’t my fault. How was I supposed to know there was ice there?” the driver of the sedan insisted.
“Not only that, but when she yanked me out of my car, I think I sprained something,” he complained.
The policeman studied Jocelyn’s slight frame for a long moment before he turned and ran his eyes down the entire length of the man’s well-padded, six-foot length.
“And why, sir, did the lady find it necessary to pull you out of your car?” the officer asked.
“I was shocked,” the man blustered. “I was shocked and instead of letting me gather my wits, she just yanked open the door and pulled me out of my own car.”
“considering the amount of intelligence you had shown to date, waiting for you to find any wits you might have would have taken too long!” Jocelyn snapped.
“Well, I—”
“Go into the restaurant, sir, and wait there for me,” the policeman ordered. “I’ll be in to talk to you as soon as Mr. Forester is on his way to the hospital. Edna,” the officer addressed his partner, “go along with him and make sure he doesn’t have anything to drink. I don’t want his blood alcohol results to be questioned.”
“I have not been drinking!” The man glared at the policeman.
“Come along, sir,” Edna took his arm in a firm grip and steered him toward the restaurant.
“Did you see the accident, Mrs. Forester?” the policeman asked Jocelyn.
“Yes, that man saw the last parking space, and he sped up to reach it before the van coming from the other direction got it. Lucas was getting something out of the car when the driver hit a patch of ice and slid into him.”
“How did the car get off him?”
“I forced that—” Jocelyn glared at the departing back of the still volatile protesting man “—excuse for a driver out of his car, and I reversed it off Lucas.”
“Excuse me.” The husky emergency medical technician moved Jocelyn and the policeman aside so he could move in the stretcher.
Jocelyn watched intently as they loaded Lucas aboard the gurney.
“Don’t you worry, ma’am.” The technician paused long enough to give her a reassuring smile. “He’s got a good, strong heartbeat, and head wounds always look much worse than they are. All that blood, you see.”
Jocelyn stared at the gruesome stain on the parking tarmac and shuddered. She most certainly did see.
“How about if you ride to the hospital in the ambulance with your husband?” the technician said. “You can fill us in on his name and background as we go.”
“You go along with your husband, Mrs. Forester,” the policeman agreed. “Your car can’t be driven now, anyway.”
Jocelyn turned, briefly saw the extensive damage the sedan had done to the side of Lucas’s rental car and dismissed it as unimportant. Nothing was important but Lucas.
She accepted the helping hand the policeman gave her into the ambulance and then huddled on a jump seat on one side, trying to stay out of the way of the paramedic who was taking Lucas’s blood pressure.
“His pressure’s holding well,” the technician told Jocelyn. “Tell me, does he have any chronic conditions?”
“No,” Jocelyn answered. “He jogs daily, so he’s in good physical shape.”
“Good,” the man grunted as he started to rip open Lucas’s white shirt.
Jocelyn bit back the urge to demand to know what he was doing. She didn’t want to distract the man and thus endanger Lucas.
As she watched, he began to tape flat, disk-shaped things with wires attached to them to Lucas’s chest.
“This is just a precaution,” the technician said, rewarding Jocelyn’s patience with information. “The hospital is getting the readout now and they’ll be able to respond the minute we get him there.”
“How much longer?” Jocelyn shivered at the sight of Lucas’s white face. The very faint shadow of his emerging beard showed up starkly against the abnormal pallor of his cheeks, giving him a slightly raffish look. The look was reinforced by the nasty bruise beginning to emerge on the left side of his face.
“We’ll be there soon.” The man braced himself against the side of the ambulance as the driver swung around a curve.
Five minutes later they pulled up in front of the emergency room door of the hospital, and a team of white-coated personnel erupted through the doors and swarmed into the ambulance. To her relief, the people seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Within seconds they had Lucas out of the ambulance and were rushing him through the double doors.
“Come on, Mrs. Forester,” the technician said. “I’ll show you where you can wait.”
“Thank—” Her voice broke under the force of the emotions she was trying to hold in check.
“Try not to think about it.” The man took her arm and steered her into the emergency waiting room.
Not thinking about Lucas was like trying not to breathe. It only worked until your instincts took over, and then you automatically started again.
“You can wait in here, Mrs. Forester.” The man showed her into a small waiting room furnished with a black vinyl couch and an orange plastic chair. “You sit down, and I’ll go tell the doctor where you are, all right?”
Jocelyn nodded jerkily and sank onto the couch. She clenched her hands into fists and stared down at them, shocked when she saw a tear fall and bounce off her white knuckles. Impatiently she wiped her cheeks with her coat sleeve and then started to pick up her purse to get a tissue. Her purse wasn’t there. Vaguely she glanced around the room, wondering where it was and then dismissed its whereabouts as unimportant. There was nothing in her purse that couldn’t be replaced, whereas Lucas…
Jocelyn swallowed the raw taste of fear.
“Mrs. Forester, I’m so glad you’re here.” A tall, elderly man bustled into the room. “I’m Dr. Edwards, the staff neurosurgeon, and I’ve just seen your husband. We’re doing an MRI at the moment, and as soon as that is done I want to go in.”
“In?” Jocelyn repeated blankly.
“Operate,” the man said succinctly. “There’s inter-cranial bleeding going on and it has to be stopped.
“It’s extremely fortunate you were with him or we would have lost precious time trying to locate the next of kin.”
Jocelyn shuddered. She wasn’t sure whether his half brother or his stepmother would be considered his next of kin, but one thing she did know, neither one of them would have lifted a finger to help him. They valued Lucas’s possessions, not Lucas himself. In fact, she thought, as she remembered Bill’s hard eyes glaring at her, she wouldn’t put it past Bill to stall giving his consent in the hope that Lucas might suffer permanent brain damage. Her stomach lurched. Or worse.
She didn’t dare let the doctor find out she wasn’t Lucas’s wife. Not until after he was out of danger. Then she’d confess.
Taking a deep breath, Jocelyn said, “I’ll sign whatever is necessary to ensure…my husband’s recovery.” The word husband rang mockingly in her ears. For so long she’d dreamed of Lucas coming to love her, and now that there was no chance of that ever happening, she was publicly claiming him as her husband.
Her breath caught on a sob at the irony of it.
“I know it’s hard, Mrs. Forester, but try not to worry. The MRI was looking good when I left. With just the smallest amount of luck, he’ll sail through the operation and by christmas, all he’ll have to remember this by is a scar, which any good plastic surgeon can take care of.
“Now, you try and relax, and I’ll send the secretary in with the release forms for you to sign. I’m going to go prep him for surgery.”
Jocelyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak without breaking down in tears.
Jocelyn watched the doctor leave and then stared down at her tightly clenched hands and tried to think, to plan her next step. She couldn’t. Her thoughts kept getting sucked down into the maelstrom of emotions swirling through her. Finally she just gave up and stared blankly at the beige wall. All she could do was to endure and wait for the operation to be over.
Despite the kindness of the workers in the emergency room, who kept bringing her cups of coffee and offering hearty words of encouragement that rang false to Jocelyn’s ears, the wait seemed interminable.
Finally, when Jocelyn had about reached the end of her tether, the doctor strode through the doorway. His wide grin told her everything she wanted to know.
Relief washed over her in waves. A high-pitched buzzing filled her ears. Jocelyn shook her head to try to clear the sound, and the movement snapped her link with consciousness. A dark gray fog closed over her, carrying her into a blissful silence.
She came to a few minutes later to find herself lying on the sofa she had been sitting on, a worried-looking doctor bending over her. For a fraction of a second she was confused, and then she remembered.
“He’s okay?” she demanded.
“completely out of danger. I stopped the bleeding, and as far as I can tell there was no damage.”
“As far as you can tell?” Jocelyn repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what it says. I saw nothing to indicate that he will have any lasting effects of his accident. I’ve spoken to the social worker here at the hospital. She’s checked you into one of the rooms we keep available for the relatives of patients in intensive care. And the policeman brought your suitcases from your wrecked car and your purse, which you apparently left behind. They’ve been put in the room.”
“Thank you, when can I see my…husband?” the word sounded odd on her lips. Odd and yet strangely right.
“He’s in recovery at the moment. He should be out in an hour if he continues to make such good progress. Why don’t you go to your room and lie down. I promise I’ll get you the minute we move him down to the ward. Okay?”
“Okay,” Jocelyn said, willing to agree to anything which would allow her to see her beloved Lucas.

Chapter Two
“Doctor Edwards asked that you see him before you visited your husband this morning,” the nurse told Jocelyn when she reached the nurses’ station of the surgical ward.
Jocelyn felt her skin blanch with sudden fear. What had happened? Even though Lucas hadn’t yet regained consciousness, the nurses had been very pleased with his vital signs when she’d left him late last night.
Lucas didn’t…” Jocelyn couldn’t bring herself to complete the sentence.
“No, of course not,” the nurse hurriedly reassured her. He’s coming along nicely. Amazingly well, in fact, considering what he’s been through. It’s just that…
Oh, good, there’s Dr. Edwards now.” The nurse broke off in evident relief as she caught sight of the doctor hurrying down the hall toward them.
Jocelyn turned, waiting nervously for the doctor to reach her. If Lucas hadn’t suffered a relapse, the only reason she could think of that the doctor would insist on seeing her would be if the hospital had somehow found out that Lucas and she weren’t married. That she had lied to them.
Which would explain the doctor’s impatience to see her. He was probably worried about the hospital’s liability for having operated on Lucas without proper authorization.
Jocelyn braced her thin shoulders and prepared to face the doctor’s wrath. But even knowing that what she’d done was technically wrong, she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Lucas had gotten the help he’d needed when he’d needed it. Not when some bureaucrat had decided it was legally safe to treat him.
“Mrs. Forester.” Dr. Edwards’s greeting caught her off guard. If he’d found out that she wasn’t Lucas’s wife, why was he still calling her that? And if he hadn’t found out, then why was it so urgent he speak to her? Unless the nurse had lied about Lucas being okay? Sudden panic gripped her, and she took an involuntary step toward the doctor.
“Lucas is fine.” The doctor had no trouble reading her expressive face. “Physically, I’m very impressed with how well he’s responding.”
“But?” Jocelyn asked, sensing his constraint.
It has been my experience that occasionally in situations like this—”
“Cut to the chase,” Jocelyn said, interrupting him. “My nerves won’t last through the buildup.”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. Just a temporary problem. Mr. Forester is suffering a spot of amnesia.”
“Amnesia?” Jocelyn stared blankly at the doctor.
“It isn’t all that uncommon in head injuries,” he assured her. “We discovered it this morning when we cut back on the pain medication enough to let him regain consciousness. Your husband should remember everything within a week. A couple of weeks at the outside.”
“Amnesia,” Jocelyn repeated. As in, he doesn’t remember who I am?” Or the fact that I’m not really his wife? A complicated mixture of emotions swirled through her as the implications of the situation began to register.
“Not at the moment,” he said.
“How do I handle this?” she finally asked.
“The most important thing you can do is to keep calm and not to try to force his memory. He should remember a little more each day until it all comes back to him. Just answer any questions he asks and, above all, keep stress to a minimum.”
“I see,” Jocelyn said slowly, wondering what to do now. confessing who she really was was out of the question in light of this latest development. Not if Lucas was to have the peace he needed to get better. At the first hint of any weakness on Lucas’s part, Bill would be all over him; and Bill was stress personified.
Besides, she didn’t really want to confess, she realized. Soon she would be gone from Lucas’s life entirely. Being able to pretend to be his wife for a few days was a gift of incredible proportions from an unexpectedly benevolent fate. She’d be able to cherish the memory of those precious days for the rest of her life.
“When can he leave the hospital?” she asked.
“Barring anything unforeseen, he can be discharged day after tomorrow.”
“So soon!”
“He’ll recover much quicker in a familiar environment. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” Dr. Edwards gave her an encouraging smile and hurried off down the hall.
I sure hope he’s a better doctor than he is a fortune teller, Jocelyn thought. Because “fine” was the one thing she wasn’t going to be. Once Lucas regained his memory, she’d lose the man she loved. She didn’t think she’d ever be fine again. Which was all the more reason to make the most of the moment, she told herself.
Taking a deep breath, she hurried down the hall to Lucas’s room. Pushing open the door, she walked inside.
Lucas lay in a high, narrow bed. His eyes were closed, and his skin had a grayish cast, which was emphasized by the large, white bandage, which covered the left side of his forehead. Jocelyn silently approached the bed, wincing when she saw the lurid purple-and-red bruise that started under his bandage and ran down his cheek almost to his jaw. He hadn’t shaved since the accident, and the three days’ growth of beard gave him a vaguely pirate-like look that sent an unexpected kick of excitement through her. Lucas looked like an ancient warrior. One who’d been on the losing side.
Her heart twisted. He looked so vulnerable. Something that was totally foreign to his normal vibrant personality. Lucas always seemed so competent, so absolutely in charge of both himself and the situation he found himself in; it was a shock to realize that he needed protecting. But she also found it oddly exhilarating. Somehow, his present vulnerability put them on an equal footing. He needed her. For the first time in their relationship she wasn’t on the periphery of his life. She was smack in the middle of it.
His eyelids slowly lifted as if he’d sensed someone was in the room with him, and she found herself staring into his eyes. They seemed dimmer than usual. The brilliant sparkle that usually lit them had been dulled, which was hardly surprising given what had happened, she told herself.
Uncertainly she watched him, waiting for a clue as to how to proceed.
Lucas squinted, trying to see the woman standing beside his bed through the haze of pain that engulfed him. Her large eyes were pale blue with an intriguing violet tinge, he thought distractedly. But her eyes didn’t look hopeful. They were filled with apprehension. Because of him? he wondered as he studied the creamy texture of her complexion. Her delicately molded nose had a light dusting of pale freckles that intrigued him. Did she have freckles anywhere else? he wondered. His eyes instinctively dropped to her body and a surge of heat welled up through him, which increased the pounding in his head to nauseating levels.
Hastily, he forced his gaze upward away from the temptation of her body to discover her mouth. She had gorgeous lips, he decided after a moment’s deliberation. They were soft and pink and full and promised unimaginable delights to anyone lucky enough to kiss them.
Mesmerized, he watched as she reached up and brushed back a strand of her gleaming hair. It was the exact color of Italian chestnuts. A deep rich brown with just the slightest hint of red in the mix.
Who was she? he wondered. Certainly not a nurse. Not dressed in that severely cut, dark-blue business suit. He wished he could see her legs over the edge of the bed. If they were as intriguing as her face was…
A sudden flash of memory of her reaching up to get something on a shelf over her head flashed through his mind. She was wearing beige slacks that lovingly molded her trim hips. The instinctive burst of desire that surged through him made the pain in his head escalate to appalling proportions. He waited a moment for the pain to ebb before he followed his memory flash to its logical conclusion. He knew this woman. He knew her from before the accident. Knew her and desired her. Hell, he thought with black humor, if he desired her much more he’d pass out from the pain it caused him.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. This morning when he’d tried to ask the doctor some questions, the only information that the man had actually given him had been that Lucas had a wife named Jocelyn, and she had been in the hospital since the accident, although she wasn’t there at the moment. could this woman be his wife? He tried to slow his breathing to counter his sudden excitement at the tantalizing thought. His eyes dropped to her breasts. Did he know her intimately? Frustration engulfed him at his inability to remember.
Sending up a prayer that this intriguing-looking woman really belonged to him, he gave her a crooked grin and said, “Mrs. Forester, I presume?”
To his dismay her lovely blue eyes suddenly filled with tears.
“Oh, Lucas, I was so worried that…” Her musical voice broke, drowned in the depth of her relief. Lucas sounded so normal. So lucid. So…so Lucas.
“That I’d forgotten you?” he said, drawing his own conclusions. come closer. I don’t bite. In fact,” he added when she didn’t move, even thinking lascivious thoughts at the moment makes my head pound, quite literally.”
He frowned as a deep flush burned beneath her pale skin.
“You are my wife, aren’t you?” he asked uncertainly, confused at her odd reaction. Didn’t wives want their husbands to desire them? Or was it that this particular wife didn’t want him to desire her? Or was her seemingly embarrassed reaction caused by something else entirely? He winced as his head began to pound with his conjectures.
Jocelyn took a deep breath and said, Yes, I’m your wife.”
Her words seemed to bounce off the room’s bare walls, gaining strength as they ricocheted. Jocelyn listened to them, both elated and scared by what she had done. One of the many foster mothers she’d had when she was a child had once told her that, if she told a lie, God would strike her dead on the spot.
All her life she’d felt a nervous dread whenever she told a fib, even though she knew perfectly well that God had better things to do than to run around zapping people. But this certainly proved her foster mother had been wrong once and for all, Jocelyn thought ruefully. Because if instantaneous retribution hadn’t been demanded for a lie of this magnitude, she was safe forever.
“I knew you were familiar,” Lucas said, giving up trying to analyze the expressions flitting across her expressive face. She was probably just upset, which was hardly surprising. His accident hadn’t done anything for his mental health, either.
Instinctively he reached out to her as his head began to pound again.
Jocelyn grasped his hand. Unable to resist the temptation, she stroked her fingertips across the back of his hand, savoring the texture of his warm skin. A spurt of excitement shafted through her as he began to lightly rub his thumb over the palm of her hand in response to her caress. Her breathing shortened as a shivery sensation raced over her nerve endings.
Jocelyn ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips.
Lucas watched the movement of her tongue from beneath his lowered eyelids, wanting to trace its path with his own tongue. And then he wanted to…
“Just a minute while I get a chair to sit in.” Jocelyn’s voice came out in a breathless squeak. Tugging her hand free, she hurried across the room to get the black vinyl armchair against the other wall.
Lucas watched as she dragged it across the floor, his sense of unease increasing. Did she really want the chair or did she just want to break off the physical contact with him? He clenched his teeth together in frustration at his inability to remember and immediately paid a price when his head started to pound again. Deliberately he tried to relax. This wasn’t the time to go paranoid, he tried to tell himself. He had enough on his plate trying to deal with the aftereffects of his accident. He didn’t need to be imagining problems where there might not be any.
Unless…Another more ominous possibility occurred to him and his eyes shot open. could she know something about his operation that he didn’t? Could the doctor have told her he wasn’t ever going to remember again? That his life to date was now dead to him? Fear shafted through him, sending a sheen of sweat over his skin.
“Lucas, what’s wrong?” Jocelyn caught his sudden spurt of emotion and feared that he might have remembered everything.
“What did that doctor tell you?” he demanded.
“Tell me?” she repeated, torn between relief that he hadn’t regained his memory yet and guilt at being so selfish as to be glad.
“About my operation?”
“That you were very lucky. That there would be no permanent damage and that memory loss wasn’t unusual after this kind of operation and that all we had to do was wait for it to come back.”
“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.
To his surprise he drifted into a light sleep that lasted until Jocelyn turned sharply, and the deeply rutted driveway proved a challenge to the suspension system of the Mercedes they’d rented at the airport.
Lucas opened his eyes and looked around curiously. In front of them was a small, one-story house covered in grayed cedar shakes. It seemed to have grown out of the hillside. But despite the bleak color, the house seemed to exude a welcoming air. As if it had been patiently waiting for him to return, he thought fancifully, and then blinked as he got a flash of a crackling fire blazing merrily in a fieldstone fireplace.

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