The Second Chance
The Second Chance
Catherine Mann
She can’t remember the last five years…Chuck Mikkelson knows Shana doesn’t remember him…or that she wanted a divorce. But now she’s back in his home, and he vows to save their union at all costs. Will their rekindled passion be enough to convince her to stay when her memory returns?
She can’t remember the last five years...
Or the man who says he’s her husband.
Chuck Mikkelson knows Shana doesn’t remember him...or that she wanted a divorce. But now she’s back in his home, and he vows to save their union at all costs. This may be the only chance he has to win back his wife. Will their rekindled passion be enough to convince her to stay when her memory returns?
USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, catherinemann.com (http://www.catherinemann.com).
Also by Catherine Mann (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
The Baby Claim
The Double Deal
The Love Child
The Twin Birthright
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Second Chance
Catherine Mann
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07690-6
THE SECOND CHANCE
© 2018 Catherine Mann
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my gifted and delightful editor, Stacy Boyd.
“Write to communicate to the hearts and minds of
others what’s burning inside … edit to let the fire
show through the smoke.” (Arthur Plotnik)
Contents
Cover (#u8d104a95-339f-5120-ba55-ea752b93cef1)
Back Cover Text (#u717a0fde-a8e1-537a-946c-48a466709abc)
About the Author (#u82f801b7-56d4-5066-b330-c9533b85660b)
Booklist (#ua44d311c-cc42-5cbc-9c29-62f7e7e309ca)
Title Page (#ue271775e-39f4-5231-8fb2-0918325e49ed)
Copyright (#ud45c65e1-b6d4-5cf1-ad28-be22bfdfd5b8)
Dedication (#u59bcccb1-0a92-59c1-8c18-1b2481eba66c)
Prologue (#uc241102e-9aa9-530b-a51f-5475cad9c526)
One (#uee6e597e-30b1-5545-8fbd-b93521254a76)
Two (#u3b54ebc7-3548-554b-8e58-5104888b8b47)
Three (#u5d7f9371-f352-553d-8c09-209329586aac)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Alaskan Oil Barons - Steele Mikkelson Family Tree (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Shana had once thought Chuck was the love of her life.
She’d have bet their marriage would last forever.
But today, Shana Mikkelson had to accept that she and Chuck were finished.
Now she just wanted peace, but peace was in short supply as she threw her husband’s jeans into a suitcase on their bed. The musky scent of him wafted up from the denim, filling her every breath like a drug she could only quit cold turkey.
Her grief was too deep for tears. Truth be told, there weren’t any tears left to shed. She’d just about cried herself into dehydration over this man. She tugged open his dresser drawer, scooped out an armful of socks and strode over to the bed again to dump them into his open luggage.
She kept her eyes on her task and off the bed where they’d made love so often—although not as much lately. She definitely kept her gaze away from her handsome husband, his strong jaw jutting as he threw gear into his shaving kit. Too easily, she could be drawn into the sensual lure of the bristle on his face or the temptation to stroke his perpetually mussed sandy-brown hair. His headful of cowlicks refused to fall in line with the rest of his traditional good looks in a way that somehow made him all the more appealing.
He was like his home state of Alaska, majestic and untamed. Commanding the eye, and yet opaque as a dense forest trailing up a mountainside.
His footsteps sounded along the hardwood floor as he approached her. The storm in his green eyes broadcast his silent protest to her edict that he move out. He was leaving under duress. Well, tough. She’d given him chance after chance. He would cut back at work only to plunge into the office twice as hard again. He wasn’t interested in significant change, and over time, that had diluted their love until there was nothing left.
Even their marriage counselor wore a defeated look the last time they’d seen him together.
Every weekly appointment since then? Chuck had canceled. Citing work conflicts—his standard reason for missed dinner dates, too. She’d stopped trusting his word long before that. Trust was already difficult for her, after the way her father had betrayed her and her mother. She didn’t think she would ever recover from the blow of finding out her dad had a secret second family.
Chuck’s extended absences wore on her. Deeply.
Shana swallowed back the painful past and focused on the present. The heartbreaking present.
They were finally expecting a baby.
After failed fertility treatments and three miscarriages, she’d gotten pregnant by surprise. Very much by surprise as their sex life had been on the rocks along with their marriage.
Their communication was at an all-time low. She needed the controlled setting of their counselor’s office to tell her husband about the baby. But since Chuck was a consistent no-show, he still didn’t know.
Sitting alone in the counselor’s office earlier that day, she’d reached the end of her rope. She was done. She would tell him about the baby once their separation was official. She couldn’t afford another emotional breakdown, bad for the health of the baby when Shana was already in such a stressful environment.
She stormed into his closet, wrapped her arms around four of his suits and lifted them from the rack. “This should get you through work until we can set aside a time for you to pick up the rest of your things.”
She slammed the bulk of designer suits into his open case on the bed.
“Shana, I’m sorry for missing the appointment.” He paced barefoot, faded jeans hugging his muscular thighs, his long-sleeved tee stretching across his broad shoulders. His hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken after work. “You have to understand the business merger comes with extra hours. I’ve bowed out of as many things as I can.”
Since the Mikkelson matriarch had married the Steele patriarch, the two former rival oil families were merging their families’ companies into Alaska Oil Barons, Inc. The lengthy process had siblings from both sides making power grabs at a time when stockholders needed to see unity.
“And yet you’re still secluded in the study every night.”
They did nothing together except sleep and eat. No more days spent horseback riding, snowmobiling and traveling. And as much as she wanted to trust Chuck that it was only work and that things would change, she could only bury her head in the sand for so long before she smothered to death.
“I’m doing my best, Shana. Things will get better as the merger takes root.”
“So you keep saying.” She tossed a handful of silk ties into the suitcase. “Every deadline you give for this magical easing at work just gets pushed back. I feel like a fool for believing you.”
“Damn it, Shana, you’ve got to see the effort.” He forked his hand through his hair. “I even had my antisocial brother stand in for me at that wildlife preservation fund-raiser. There aren’t as many Mikkelsons as there are Steeles. And with Mom and Glenna both married to Steeles, their loyalties are split in a way mine aren’t. I’m a Mikkelson. Period.”
As was the baby he knew nothing about.
Thinking about raising their child alone made her heart and head ache. Chuck would want to be a part of the child’s life. She didn’t doubt that. She just wasn’t sure how much time he would make for the baby.
Her ability to trust him had been eroded on so many levels.
Resolve strengthened, she faced him. “It’s quite clear where your heart lies.”
“That’s not fair, Shana. These are extreme times. If I scale back too much, the Steele family could eclipse our vision and our power,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Their bed. Nearly four years ago, when they’d married and built their dream home in Anchorage, she’d decorated their bedroom with such romantic hope in each detail of the modern French provincial decor.
They’d spent a lot of hours in this room—making love, sharing dreams. Until the third miscarriage had taken too much of a toll on both of them.
“Then by all means, don’t let me hold you back. Dig in.” She closed his suitcase with a decisive click and spun away hard and fast.
Too fast. The room spun and she gripped the footboard of the bed to keep from stumbling.
“Shana?”
She blinked fast to clear the spots dancing in front of her eyes, to quell the nausea from her blossoming headache.
If she could just get Chuck to leave so she could lie down and breathe...
“Please. Go.” She pushed free the two words, a mammoth undertaking with her stress headache spiking.
Why was he walking so slowly? She saw his mouth moving, but nothing was coming out. That didn’t make sense. And then he tipped.
Except no.
The whole room tipped because...
Her hand slid from the bed on her way to the floor.
One (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Thirty-six hours later
Until today, Charles “Chuck” Mikkelson had run out of ideas for a second chance with his wife. Admitting defeat had never been an option for him, professionally or personally.
But amnesia as a do-over with Shana was extreme, even for him.
Surely he’d heard the neurologist wrong. Chuck’s gut knotted. “Do you mean Shana is disoriented? Fuzzy on things like the time or date? Forgot what she had for dinner?”
After all, she’d suffered a minor aneurysm that had left her unconscious for just over thirty-six hours. The longest day and a half of his life. But finally, she was awake. Alive.
Two physicians occupied the secluded sitting area where Chuck had been brought after a staffer located him grabbing a bite in the cafeteria while a privately hired nurse sat with Shana. Chuck couldn’t believe his wife had actually woken up the one time he’d stepped away from her hospital room. The neurologist—Dr. Harris—sat beside Chuck. Another of Shana’s physicians stood at the window. Snow was coming down in thick sheets of white, as if the hospital sterility was outside as well as indoors.
“Shana is disoriented, but it’s more than that,” Dr. Harris explained slowly from the chrome-and-leather chair he’d pulled around to face Chuck. “You need to accept that she has lost her memory.”
Amnesia. The word still ricocheted around in Chuck’s brain. “She doesn’t know who she is?”
Dr. Harris closed the tablet that he’d used earlier to show the part of her brain that was affected. “Actually, she does know her name. She recalls details about herself. The memory loss focuses on more recent events.”
“How recent?” Chuck asked, unease creeping up his spine.
“She has the month correct. But five years prior.”
Five years ago? That meant... “She doesn’t remember anything about me.”
Much less about being married to him. There were some times between them lately he wouldn’t mind forgetting. But the thought of losing memories of the good times with Shana?
Unthinkable.
The two doctors exchanged somber looks before Shana’s other doctor took a seat in the other wingback. Dr. Gibson was young, but tops when it came to fertility specialists. It meant a lot to Chuck that the man had shown up to weigh in on Shana’s condition even though they weren’t trying for another baby.
“Chuck, I’m sorry to say, she does not remember you,” Dr. Gibson said in the quietly comforting tone he’d used during Chuck and Shana’s failed in vitro and three miscarriages. A phantom sucker punch to the gut wracked Chuck.
It had been bittersweet when Dr. Gibson had assisted in caring for Chuck’s stepsister two months ago, after she delivered twins in a car. Pretending nothing was wrong had been hard as hell for Chuck, and Shana hadn’t wanted his comfort.
“We were having trouble. Do you think this memory loss is more psychological than physical?”
He’d blamed himself repeatedly for this aneurysm. If they hadn’t been fighting, if intense emotions hadn’t raised her blood pressure, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
“There’s no question she’s had an aneurysm, and she’s incredibly lucky to have come through it so well. But that’s not to say there aren’t psychological aspects in play. The body and mind work in tandem.”
Staring at the tablet in the doctor’s hand, Chuck moved toward a planter, something to rest on. “How do we proceed from here? What do we tell her, and what’s her prognosis?”
“I realize that you need answers, but it’s too early to project the long term. For now, the counselor on staff here suggests we answer questions as she asks them, no additional information,” Dr. Harris warned. “A psychiatrist will be consulting. Things are still so very new.”
The obstetrician leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Let’s focus on the positives. Shana’s awake and physically fine. The baby’s heartbeat is strong. That’s news to celebrate.”
Chuck frowned, certain he’d misunderstood. Gibson had to be confusing patients after a late shift.
Dr. Harris straightened. “The baby?”
“What baby?” Chuck said precisely. Because no way could Shana be pregnant now of all times. The dark irony of that would be too much to entertain.
Dr. Gibson’s eyebrows shot up before he schooled his face back into an alarmingly blank expression. “She didn’t tell you about the pregnancy?”
Chuck shook his head slowly, stunned, half-certain there was an error. Fate couldn’t be this twisted.
“Shana is expecting,” he said baldly. “Two months along. And from your reaction, Chuck, she hadn’t told you yet.”
Chuck sifted through the hell of the past day and a half. There hadn’t been any need to call Dr. Gibson in on the case on a weekend. Chuck had said no to the possibility of pregnancy when the admission staff had asked.
Now he realized the truth of it. Shana had gotten pregnant without an in vitro procedure.
The reality slammed into Chuck like a ton of bricks. Against all odds, they were expecting a child.
Now.
He couldn’t even sort through the layers of “stunned” to feel anything but shock.
Chuck’s mind winged back to their attending the baptism for his sister Glenna’s daughter. He and Shana had actually spent a week getting along, drawn into their hopes for the future, loving their niece and considering adoption. Glenna clearly loved Fleur, no biological bond needed.
Emotions running high, Chuck and Shana had spent a week in bed together. A week that had apparently defied their odds and borne fruit. He had to be there for Shana and their child.
Dr. Harris opened his tablet again, scrolling through his notes. “While I wish we had known so we could have monitored the fetus, none of the medications she’s received should present a risk to the baby’s development. We’ll keep Shana another night for monitoring.”
Dr. Gibson said, “We’ll also do an ultrasound and start her on progesterone given her prior miscarriages.”
Chuck nodded, still reeling. A baby. She was two months along. She’d known and she hadn’t told him. Worse yet, she’d thrown him out without telling him she carried his child.
She’d probably realized that if she told him about the baby, it would have taken a force of nature to budge him from their house. He didn’t have the luxury of anger right now.
Dr. Gibson tilted his head, placing a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “I realize this is difficult for you, too. You’ve both been waiting for this baby for so long, and these aren’t the circumstances anyone could have foreseen.” He gestured toward the door. “Perhaps seeing you will jog her memory.”
And therein lay his problem.
He didn’t want her to remember.
Because if she did?
Shana would walk, taking their baby with her.
* * *
Shana pushed herself up on the hospital bed, taking her time to be sure the room didn’t spin as it had the last time she’d tried. People were acting strange around her, and she wanted answers. Instead, she was stuck lying here alone with only a view of snow slamming down on the mountains.
Well, alone except for a nurse who’d been there since she’d woken up and hadn’t left her side, even when the doctors stopped by, doctors who’d been short of answers as to why she was here. Even her phone was missing and the remote control for the TV wasn’t working. The nurse said it would be fixed soon.
Shana touched her head, exploring her hairline. A small bandage was located just behind her ear. She’d been assured her long hair covered the shaved patch. The doctor had only told her she’d suffered a minor aneurysm, but that otherwise she was physically fine. Beyond that, they’d been cagey.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what had happened before she’d come to the hospital. The last thing she recalled was an argument with her mother over Shana’s refusal to reconcile with her father. Even thinking about the fight and her dad made her headache worse.
She knew avoidance when she heard it. Her work as a private detective had taught her all the signs. She also had a sixth sense for these things and trusted her gut.
Something was going on beyond what they’d told her.
Turning to the nurse, who was making updates on the dry-erase board in her room, Shana asked, “Excuse me? When will the doctor be back? I have questions.”
Being in limbo was scary. Her imagination was working overtime.
Just as the nurse opened her mouth to answer, a knock sounded and the door opened to admit a man. Not the doctor who’d been by to check her out when she’d woken. And even though it felt like a slew of staff had come through her room in the past half hour, she would have remembered this guy. He had an unforgettable face, movie-star quality in a rough-around-the-edges way. His light brown hair was just long enough to be mussed by a woman’s fingers, coarse hair that would rasp the skin.
A doctor? He didn’t have on a white coat. In fact, he was dressed more casually than any doctor she knew. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that bore the wrinkles of someone who’d pulled a long shift. But his sea green eyes were what held her attention in an unbreakable grip. The colors shifted with the icy intensity of a winter sea.
What crazy thoughts to be having right now, but the tug of attraction made her feel normal on a day that was entirely too abnormal.
“I appreciate that you’re all being thorough, but I need to get in touch with my mother. I just want to call her, and no one will give me a phone.”
Or a remote control. Or a mirror. Or answers.
Okay, this was getting really weird.
Strangely, the nurse left the room. Physicians usually kept a nurse with them for exams. Although the door had been left open.
“Your mother is on her way. She should be here tomorrow.” He stopped by the bed, large hands grasping the bedrail.
Before she could help herself, she checked his ring finger and found...
A wedding band.
Disappointment cooled the attraction. So much for drooling over Mr. Cover Model. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. She should be focused on more serious matters rather than this sexy distraction.
“Which doctor are you?” She settled on the reasonable question, a thousand more zipping around in her fuzzy brain.
“You should rest,” he said evasively. “You’ve been through a lot. Your body needs to recharge.”
“Aren’t you a doctor?” She massaged her temple. “Or an occupational therapist? I can’t recall. There were so many people in the room when I woke up.”
“I’m not your doctor.”
A nervous skitter started up her spine, like something shifting behind a mist, just out of reach. “Remind me who you are?”
“My name is Chuck, and I’m going to get your doctor.” He backed up a step. “Things are...complicated.”
“Well, Chuck, I’ve had people checking me and asking questions, but no one has been answering mine.” Panic rose inside her. “Tell me what’s going on, or give me a phone to speak to my mother. Why are you keeping her from me?”
“Your mother is flying in.” He held up a calming, reassuring hand that somehow only made things worse. “She’s not available to talk yet.”
A pit formed deep in her belly. The walls bore down on her.
Nothing was as it seemed.
This place was starting to feel like a jail, except the private room full of high-tech equipment and flowers was far too posh for incarceration. She needed to get her life in order, call her mom, check in with her boss about her caseload and an upcoming court case she would be testifying in.
“Then I guess that leaves you or the doctor to tell me, because lying here waiting is most definitely stressing me out.” She swung her legs out from under the sheet.
The room spun.
Chuck rushed forward and clasped her arm. His touch was at once both steadying and unsettling.
Her gaze went back to that glinting wedding band. The spark of awareness made her feel ill. Married cheaters were the worst. Her father’s deceit had left a wake of devastation. The room started spinning again but in a different way from having wobbly legs.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
“I need to know what’s going on and if you won’t tell me—” she reached for the call button “—then I’m going to find someone who will.”
He released her arm. “Okay, we’ll talk. There’s no agenda here other than looking out for your health. Any question you have, I will answer honestly.”
Alarms went off in her mind. When people said words like honestly and truthfully, that usually meant they had something to lie about. “I want to know why everyone is acting so strange around me.”
“The aneurysm has affected your memory,” he said slowly, carefully.
Her memory? The weight of that word hit her hard. “How so?”
“You’ve forgotten the past five years.”
His words slammed into her, adding a push to that merry-go-round feel in her head. “Five years? Gone. And we know each other?”
Even as her world spiraled, the confusion faded as the logical answer came together—his lack of a medical coat, his familiarity...and the wedding band.
Face somber, Chuck rested his hands on her shoulders, holding her gaze with his. “We more than know each other. I’m your husband.”
* * *
The horrified expression on Shana’s face was damn near insulting. Her gaze shot to his wedding band, then back up to his eyes.
Color drained from her already pale face. She sagged back down into the hospital bed, her blond hair splashing across the pillow. He wanted to protect her, to find some way to wrestle their problems into submission. Not that he’d ever had much luck with that. He needed to put aside his own feelings and focus on her. Focus on keeping her calm—and making the most of this time to heal the rift between them.
Shana thumbed her own bare ring finger. “Married? To each other?”
“For almost four years. Your jewelry was taken off when you were admitted to the hospital.” He tapped her ring finger lightly, the softness of her skin so familiar—and seductive. Even in the middle of the worst crisis of his life.
She had a beauty and fire that rocked even a hospital gown.
“You’re my husband? I... Why... What happened? This is, um, overwhelming.”
“I realize it’s a lot to absorb.” He pulled a chair closer and sat, taking both of her hands in his. “The doctor said the memory loss could be temporary.”
“Or it could be permanent.” She didn’t pull away, but she did look at their clasped hands with confusion. “How long have we known each other?”
Those soft blue eyes turned hawkish, reading him like an X-ray machine. He nodded, clearing his throat. Determined to deliver objective facts. To not make this worse.
“We met nearly five years ago.” He watched her closely to gauge her reaction. He felt like he knew her so well, but also not at all.
How much of the essence of Shana would still exist with the memory loss?
Questions flooded his mind with too many potential futures to absorb at once.
“So my amnesia starts from right before I met you?” she said slowly, suspicion filling her eyes.
She was too astute. It seemed her private investigator skills were as honed as ever.
“It appears so,” he said, treading carefully through this discussion that was full of land mines. “I don’t expect you to take my word for anything. Talk to my family, talk to your mother, whatever you need to do to feel reassured.”
“You have family nearby?”
“I do. A large family. My mother and some of my siblings live in Anchorage, except for my brother, who’s closer to Juneau.” He shared the details carefully, watching for signs of recollection. Her amnesia could disappear at any moment and she would go back to tossing him out on his ass. “My mother recently remarried and her new husband has an even larger family, mostly local, too.”
“A big family is a blessing.” Her blue eyes shone with a pain he recognized.
Learning of her father’s hidden second family had wounded Shana deeply as a teen. She had three half siblings she’d never met. Her father’s betrayal had cut so deeply that Shana still had trouble trusting. Chuck knew he needed to keep that in mind now more than ever. If he made a misstep, this could go so very wrong.
But he couldn’t let her go, especially not now.
He would do what was necessary to protect Shana, and their unborn baby.
There’d been a time when they talked of having at least four children. Life had a different plan for them.
“Considering my family and Mom’s new husband’s family have been business enemies for decades, we weren’t sure about the blessing part at first. Family reunions are dicey, but it’s starting to shake out.”
“So you and I are happily married?”
Now, there was a loaded question. “We had our problems like any other couple,” he hedged.
The last thing he wanted to lead with was their hellish fight right before her aneurysm, a fight that had her hauling his clothes from the closet as she told him to move out. But the doctor had said to answer honestly. He could offer up part of their issues without tipping his hand. “We had been going through fertility treatments to start a family, and that put a strain on us.”
“But we were committed enough that we wanted a child together.”
“Want a child. Present tense.” He very much intended to be a full-time father to their child. If this pregnancy went well, Chuck would do everything in his power to be there for his kid.
“You have to realize I’m overwhelmed by all of this.” She threaded her fingers through her long, honeyed hair, over her ear, her eyes widening. “Amnesia? It’s something we all know about, but I never imagined it could actually happen to me.”
“Of course. It’s a lot. Take your time. I’m here for you, whatever you need, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you—” She frowned, pressing her temples.
“People call me Chuck,” he reminded her. “Or Charles.”
“What did I call you?”
The last time they’d been together, she’d called him a list of names better left unsaid right now. “You called me Chuck.”
“Thank you, Chuck.”
The way her voice wrapped around his name sounded as familiar as ever.
A tap sounded on the door. “Hello?”
A recognizable voice called out an instant before the door opened to the youngest of his siblings—Alayna.
The shiest of them all, she entered hesitantly. There’d been a time as a child when she was as talkative as the rest of them, but then she’d changed. Withdrawn. Telling her to leave would be like plucking wings off a butterfly.
But he’d hoped to keep his family out of this situation a little while longer until he could explain the amnesia to them. Alayna had a quiet way of slipping past people’s defenses. While the family probably hadn’t noticed she’d left, the staff here likely had been charmed and unaware she was supposed to be anywhere but here.
Hell, even he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her for caring so much.
Alayna rushed to Shana’s bedside and hugged her gently. “Thank goodness you’re awake. I’ve been so worried.”
Shana stared over his sister’s shoulder with wide, surprised eyes. “Uh, hello, thank you.”
Stepping back, Alayna sank into a chair. “I’m so relieved you’re awake, and healthy, and the baby’s okay. It’s a miracle.”
How the hell had she heard the news? And damn, he needed to say something quickly before—
Shana’s surprised look shifted to outright stunned.
“The baby?”
Two (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
A baby?
Panic and confusion rocked Shana, the young woman’s voice still ringing in her ears. She had a child as well as a husband? Her hand slid to her stomach, still flat. Surely there must be some kind of mistake.
Unless they meant a child that had already been born.
“We have a child?” Shana asked, her mind spinning. “How old? You say the child’s okay. Did something happen when I had the aneurysm? Was I driving a car or holding—?”
“Nothing like that.” He looked sideways at Alayna, who appeared even more confused than Shana felt.
Slack-jawed, the young woman—late teens, perhaps?—glanced back and forth between them. “I don’t understand—”
Chuck placed a silencing hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Shana, I’d hoped to share this more carefully, but here goes. You’re eight weeks pregnant.”
Air whooshed from her lungs. Her ears rang. She could barely wrap her brain around this latest shock. “It’s... I...um, I don’t know what to say.”
The young woman tugged on her overlong sweater nervously, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... Well, I’m just so sorry.”
Chuck slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze even though his eyes broadcast frustration. “Meet my sister.” He turned to the younger woman. “Alayna, Shana’s suffering from temporary amnesia and has forgotten about the past five years. You couldn’t have known. Although I’m curious as hell how you heard about the pregnancy.”
Alayna chewed her already short fingernails. “I thought... Oh my. I’m sorry. I was walking by the nurses’ station and overheard them talking about things for shift change... I’m really sorry.”
Chuck pulled a tight smile. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo. Shana just has some gaps in her memory. It’ll all sort out.”
Shana wished she could be as confident about that. She’d thought about being a mom someday, but this was too much too fast. Not that it seemed she had any choice in the matter. Her life was on warp speed.
Her father had wrecked her mother’s life. Shana had always known when it was her time to be a parent, the decision would have to be made slowly and carefully. If she and Chuck had been trying for a child, then their marriage must have been solid.
So why didn’t she feel like the love-at-first-sight lightning bolt had hit her? Lust maybe, but not love.
“Shana, I’m really sorry to have confused you or made things more difficult.” Fidgeting, Alayna ducked out from under her brother’s arm and stood. “I’ll just leave, and we can talk another time when things are less, well, confusing. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Or rather, she hoped it would be. Shana exhaled hard, unsure how she felt about carrying a child she couldn’t recall conceiving versus there being a child already in the picture, a child she also wouldn’t have remembered giving birth to.
Alayna held up a hand. “I really do apologize.” She backed away. “I love you to pieces, Shana.”
Standing, Chuck cupped Alayna’s shoulder. “If you could get coffee for me I would appreciate it.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet. “Get something for yourself, too. Thanks, kiddo.”
Once the door closed, Shana pushed herself up to sit straighter in the bed, unsure when she’d sunk into a slouch.
Chuck rubbed the back of his neck, frustration in his eyes. “I apologize for not managing the news better.”
“How could you have predicted any of this? No one could.” An understatement.
“You’re being too understanding.” He sank back in the chair by her bed.
“Well, I do have some questions.” Even thinking about the possibilities sent a fresh wave of panic through her, but not knowing was worse. “The child is yours, right?”
“Absolutely yes,” he said without hesitation. “The baby is mine. And no, we don’t have any other children.”
She hadn’t even considered that. But what else didn’t she know? Five years was a long time to make significant memories. Life-changing memories.
“You said we’d struggled with fertility.” She chewed her fingernail. “There’s just so much to learn about what’s happened over the past five years.”
And her brain was on overload, weighing every nugget of information before she trusted the latest revelation. Even well-meaning people had private agendas. And she also knew how easily a person could be misled by someone smooth at lying. Her father had taught her that lesson too painfully.
“Then we won’t press any further today.” He covered her hand with his and held tight. “I would really feel more comfortable if we called the doctors back in and let them check you over or give us more guidance.”
His touch felt...familiar somehow. Strong, yet careful all at once.
She couldn’t deny the wisdom in his words. “I just want to know one more thing for now.”
He grinned—the first time she’d seen him smile, or remembered seeing him smile—and it shone from his eyes, setting her senses buzzing.
He was sheer magnetism personified.
“Like I have the option of arguing with you?”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Apparently you do know me well. Better than I know myself at the moment, which brings me to my question. What’s my last name? Or rather, what’s your last name? Did I keep my maiden name?”
His smile faded and he clasped her hand, the left one without a wedding ring. “You took my surname. It’s Mikkelson.”
Surprise spread through her. “As in the oil family Mikkelsons?”
“Yes, the same.” He nodded.
There was a wariness to him she couldn’t quite understand. Maybe people befriended him for his money. That would have never crossed her mind. Still, a lot of things made more sense now.
“No wonder I have this private room. Your parents own Mikkelson Oil.” She pressed her fingers to the headache starting again.
“It’s not Mikkelson Oil anymore. My father passed away nearly three years ago. My mother recently married the head of Steele Oil—widower Jack Steele—merging the two companies into Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.”
For what should be big news, he didn’t look all that happy about it.
“I’m sorry about your father.” She squeezed his hand and a shiver of electricity passed between them, like static popping through her.
His thumb stroked along the inside of her wrist over her speeding pulse. “Thank you. He was fond of you.”
“I wish I remembered that.”
“Me too.”
Awareness increased until the static between them was like a meteor shower. Beautiful...but something she feared could leave her scorched.
The door opened again with a call at the same time. “Dr. Gibson here.”
Chuck cleared his throat and stepped back. “He’s your ob-gyn.”
Dr. Gibson entered, wheeling a machine of some sort, with a nurse trailing behind. “I hear the two of you were going to have a discussion.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ve told Shana I’m her husband, and she knows about the baby.”
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Gibson stopped beside her bed.
“Overwhelmed. A little woozy. But mostly just confused.”
“That’s understandable,” he said with a kind bedside manner that must have been reassuring during all the fertility treatments Chuck had mentioned. “The nurse is going to check your blood pressure, and then we’re going to do an ultrasound. We’ll go as slowly as you need us to.”
Shana’s heart skipped a beat. So much was happening so quickly she wanted to tell them all to slow down, to stop altogether. But life didn’t work that way. She had to face the present. “No need to wait. I want to know as much as I can.”
“Ask anything you like, and I’ll do my best to answer,” Dr. Gibson said. “Are you all right with Mr. Mikkelson staying in the room? I understand these are rather unusual circumstances.”
Shana looked at Chuck. He was her husband. Everyone here knew that. And this was his child. As strange as it felt to have him in the room, he had a right to be here. The past day must have been hellish for him with her health scare. “Of course he can stay.”
“Thank you.” Chuck took her hand in his, his touch strong and confident.
Those green eyes of his held her, reminding her again of a changeable rolling sea. She could so easily dive in, immerse herself in him.
Lose herself.
And that made him dangerous.
Her first priority right now was deciphering who she was.
She couldn’t afford to let down her guard around the one man she should be able to trust with her life.
* * *
The next day, as Chuck checked Shana out of the hospital, he was still reeling from seeing that ultrasound.
Snow gathered on the ground. The blacktop parking lot looked more like a field than a place for cars. But he, too, felt like he’d fallen away from the present moment.
He recalled instead a different moment. The first time Shana had announced a pregnancy. The promise and hope of that moment. So different than this one.
He had fantasized about a future with Shana and a kid on the way, but in no realm had his fantasies played out this way. They’d watched ultrasounds together in the past, but they had given up on ever seeing one again.
And now, Chuck was preparing to take his pregnant wife home.
A wife who didn’t remember him.
He stepped out of the hospital and into the crisp morning air, an orderly wheeling Shana beside Chuck. His personal staffer had brought around his Escalade, the exhaust puffing clouds into the cold. The snow was pristine after yesterday’s storm, piles on the side of the roads from snowplows clearing the way.
As the driver opened the passenger door and left the engine running for Chuck to drive, Chuck held out his hand for his wife. His pregnant wife.
The ultrasound had made this so real.
There was a baby in the mix of this insane time in his life—the merger, the long hours, the amnesia, and a second chance with Shana he didn’t want to waste.
Growing up, he’d dreamed of having a perfect marriage like his parents. That wasn’t going to happen. He and Shana had too much water under the bridge, and for too long.
But Chuck had never failed at anything in his life. He didn’t want his marriage to be the first. Which meant he needed to use this time together to win over his wife.
* * *
Shana spent much of the drive back home in a state of shock, mixed with wary hope that surely her memory would be jogged by something. Soon.
So far, no luck.
The streets leading away from the hospital had markers of familiarity, but her mind whirred. Her memory of the main highway was five years out of date.
Five years.
Such a significant amount of time. She tried to conjure up a holiday, an image of her wedding day. Tried to imagine where she might have tied the knot. Wondered who her best friend was.
But no memories pounded against her mind’s eye. Just an ultrasound image and a cyclone of questions.
Questions that hammered harder at her chest as they pulled up to their house. Her home. The home she shared with Chuck, heir to an oil empire and sexy as hell in a Stetson. Chuck had told her that her mother would be going straight from the airport to their house. There had been some delays with her flight.
And as they turned the corner, Shana took in the mammoth structure, eyes moving past the snow-covered arbor to the chimney puffing gray smoke rings against the iced sky. So many rooms, so many memories that refused to materialize. Had they picked this place out together? Had she determined which trees should be placed where?
The automatic security gate slid back to reveal a clear view of the massive two-story house with a French country charm. More of that wary hope filled her as she studied the home and grounds. Would she recognize any of it? Whitewashed brick and porches. So many porches on every floor, enclosed and open, as if there was enough space to accommodate any season.
Beautiful, but unfamiliar.
She’d grown up with security, in a cute ranch-style home made of brick. Her mother had worked at the local air force base as a nurse. Her father had always claimed he was short of money. She’d heard her parents fight about it. Sometimes the words were distinguishable, most of the time not. But in the words that had trickled through, her mom had accused him of having a drinking problem. Another time she’d questioned him about a gambling addiction, even other women. The possibility of him supporting a whole second family had never come up, so far as Shana had known.
Who would suspect that?
God, trust was tough, but right now she wasn’t in a position to walk away. She didn’t even know who she was.
And if this pregnancy lasted, she wanted to give her child a chance at a loving home and family.
She shook off the past. She hated dwelling on such negative notions and letting her father have real estate in her brain. He didn’t deserve so much as a passing thought. Instead, she focused on the house where, according to Chuck, she’d lived for nearly four years.
The property seemed to be about five acres. In addition to the mansion, the grounds had a small barn and a five-car garage. High-end cars lined the driveway, snow billowing down on them. The counselor had encouraged her to have a controlled meeting of the family as early as Shana could agree to it. Shana had replied that the tension of wondering was worse.
So Chuck’s family was here, waiting for her arrival.
If only the curtain would rise, revealing her past. This was a magnificent place set against the mountain range. Would she feel more at peace when she saw the decor? Would she recognize her influence in the home?
Modern French provincial was her style. A promising omen.
“Did we decorate together, or did you leave it all to me?”
“We chose artwork together, but the rest is all you.” His face was angular in the glow from the dash. With the sun setting early, the headlights cast stripes ahead as he neared their home, passing a frozen pond.
“Were you okay with that?”
“Completely. We blended both of our tastes where it mattered to me. For example, I had some antlers from a hunting trip with my father that I wanted to keep, and you honored that wish in a thoughtful way.”
“How so?”
He parked under a portico, the vehicle still running, heat pumping. “You incorporated them into a massive chandelier with candles over our dining room table. It’s a great tribute to my dad.”
The nostalgia in his voice drew her closer.
“I wish I could remember having met him.” Or remember any of the past five years with Chuck. She swallowed, frustrated at the void. The not knowing.
Chuck stroked her hair back from her face. “Losing him was hard on all of us. For you, too.”
Her hand gravitated to his jaw and she let herself test the bristly feel of him under the guise of offering comfort. “You’re named for him.”
“You remember?” He looked up sharply, those attentive eyes causing her cheeks to heat.
“Not the way you mean. It’s more of a guess that feels right.” She couldn’t miss the wariness in his eyes, something that hinted he would rather she didn’t remember. A shiver rippled through her and she pulled her hand away. “Although I don’t have a clue who each of those cars belongs to.”
He pointed to the first car. “That’s my mother’s. She wanted to see you in the hospital, but I didn’t want you overwhelmed with new faces.”
Was that true? Or did his family not like her and that’s why only his younger sister had been around?
Either way, he’d been right to keep them away from the hospital, because with Shana’s memory of the past five years still a no-show, she was starting to panic over going into her house emotionally blind to re-meet so many people who already knew her.
Maybe having them come over hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
But now it was too late to go back.
As the thick door swung open and she stepped through, a sheer mass of humanity greeted her. When Chuck said he had a big family, she hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant.
Her eyes flicked as she tried to take in all these new—and yet not new—people and this house at the same time. A tall blonde woman with a baby on her hip leaned against the iron railing of the staircase, her smile warm and welcoming. A cluster of people stood on the white-and-brown-dappled fur rug, crowding around the plush chairs.
Chuck pronounced their names as they moved, but Shana’s head throbbed at all the information. She tried to imagine picking out the furniture with the man who held her steady as she pushed through a barrage of people.
People who seemed genuinely concerned for her. People who felt like strangers.
They moved further into the house, her hand reaching out to touch the wall as they turned from the entry hall into the dining room. Her eyes scanned the long wooden table flanked by eight large chairs. It held a table setting for two.
A snapshot of daily life.
Bouquets of fresh flowers and tall candles ran down the table’s spine. A familiar touch—a tradition from her mother. She’d brought that here, to her life as a married woman.
A small comfort. But a comfort she embraced, the kind of nod from the universe that something made sense. It gave her the strength to meet even more people.
It helped to divide them into two family trees rather than take them in as one mass of blended family. Chuck’s mother, Jeannie, was head of the Mikkelson clan with two sons and two daughters. Jack Steele—Jeannie’s new husband—had five adult children, three sons and two daughters. His oldest son was married to Chuck’s oldest sister, and the couple had a baby girl. The oldest Steele daughter was married to a scientist and they had twin baby girls.
Shana’s heart tugged at the sight of those little ones, reminding her of the child she’d only just learned she carried but that she already loved. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled hearing that Jack had lost his wife and another daughter in a plane crash over fifteen years ago. It had probably been big news across the state at the time, given the prominence of this family.
“It’s kind of you all to come greet me.” She sank into one of the chairs in the living room, Chuck staying close behind her. His presence, the touch of his hand to her shoulder, stirred something in her. A feeling. A pull. A recognition.
But the touch couldn’t assuage her frustration or the dizzying impact of re-meeting five years’ worth of connections. She glanced up at Chuck, his sandy-brown hair tousled upward. It caught the light reflecting off the mirror that hung above the mantel.
A mirror world indeed.
She struggled to force that memory of ordering the piece to her mind’s eye. Even as she studied the antlers in front of her, she failed to locate the story from her perspective. All that Shana had was the retelling of a memory that Chuck had shared with her.
As if he knew her distress, Chuck gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.
The smile lines on Jeannie’s face deepened. A warm smile. One Shana wanted to take comfort in. The older woman gave a knowing nod. “I can tell by Chuck’s face that he thinks we’re overwhelming you. But when we heard your mother’s flight was delayed for snow, we wanted to bring you something to welcome you home. We’re here just to lay eyes on you, bring you food, then be on our way.”
“You’re hoping that if I see you, it’ll jog my memory. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t. I may never remember. Thank you for trying, though. For caring.” She swallowed, hard. Leaned back into the wooden chair. Looked at the faces of the Mikkelsons and the Steeles. Noted how comfortable they seemed around the long dining room table. Knew their appearance here to be motivated by love.
Somehow that recognition pained her.
“I’m just glad you’re alive and well,” Jeannie said. “And know we’re all only a phone call away if you have any questions.”
“I appreciate it. Please stay for dinner.” Shana bit her lip. Wishing she had something more to say. Wishing this whole meeting could somehow miraculously deliver up the memories she sought, for herself and for her child. And for this sexy man at her side? For the love she must have lost?
Why was it so difficult to wrap her brain around?
Disappointment swamped her.
In spite of Chuck’s family’s warm welcome, Shana still couldn’t shake an unsettled feeling.
She couldn’t stop searching for a reason why she was so certain there was trouble in paradise.
Three (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Chuck leaned on the door frame, hand up in a static wave as darkness flooded the horizon. The light from his sister’s car blinded him ever so briefly as she threw her SUV into Reverse. He was still unsure how the events of the last several hours had gone.
Running a hand through his thick hair, he stretched, his neck popping. Releasing some of the tension he’d carried.
The night had been an exercise in dodging one land mine after another, worrying about what his family might reveal. He appreciated their concern, and Shana had been emphatic about seeing them, hoping somehow that their appearance would break the dam to release her memories.
All the more reason for him to hustle them out the door. If only he’d managed to dissuade Shana from inviting them in the first place. But to push her to wait would have made her suspicious. He needed her calm. He needed to gain time with Shana, time enough to forge a connection strong enough that she wouldn’t leave.
All the more reason he was glad to see his family off. Finally, the last of them had left. Exhaling hard, Chuck closed the door and armed the security system.
Shana should be resting. She was fresh out of the hospital, pregnant and disoriented. Although she’d seemed to welcome the distraction of other people in the house, most likely to keep from being alone with him.
At least his family had been sensitive enough not to mention their marital problems. However, his mother had pulled out photo albums in an attempt to help jog Shana’s memories—including his and Shana’s wedding pictures, none of which had sparked the least bit of remembrance. A relief. And strangely irksome as well.
Chuck scrubbed a hand over his jaw, striding past the dining room, cleared by extra staff he’d hired to help during Shana’s recovery. Even though he now employed a chef, his family had left behind enough food for an army even though they’d all eaten their fill until the candles had burned down in the silver candelabras. Even as he’d wished them gone, he’d been grateful for the positive spin they’d put on his marriage. Their presence had given off a happy family vibe he needed to stress with his wife.
As much as he told himself to take one day at a time, Chuck found he needed to have this settled, to know Shana would be staying with him. There was no room for compromise on this matter.
A few steps farther down the corridor, he discovered Shana in the study, reading on the sofa, a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table. A blaze roared in the fireplace. Above, snow piled on the skylights, hiding nearly all of the inky night sky. Her hair was loose down her back, her legs curled up under her.
So many times, he’d found her like this in the past. In the early days of their marriage, he wouldn’t have thought twice about joining her there, skimming his hands up her lovely legs. Kissing her senseless. Peeling her clothes away until they were both naked, the firelight licking shadows over their skin.
At one time, he’d thought they had a future. Now...
He had to ensure that her future—his child’s future—included him.
Perhaps he could recover some ease with her in this room, in a space where they’d been happy. So often they’d shared time in the study, both of them in here while he’d worked from home. Even a year ago, they had still been close enough that he could distract her from her work with a neck massage, or an impromptu dance when her favorite song popped into the speakers from her playlist. Hopefully, those moments would happen again someday soon.
Because no matter what the past had held for them, or what the future promised, he still desired her.
He knelt on one knee by the sofa. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted, but cared for.” She bit her lip before continuing, “I’d hoped meeting your family would spark memories, but no luck.”
Guilt pinched, but it was best for all of them if she didn’t remember right away.
Or ever.
He picked up her hand and held it loosely, keeping himself in check. How easy it would be to sit on the sofa and pull her into his lap. “Shana, I know this has to be awkward for you.”
It had been so long since they’d shared that kind of ease.
“That’s an understatement.” Her eyes held his for a moment before she eased her hand away. She searched the room, her gaze never lingering long on any one spot. He followed her frenzied survey, taking in the bookshelves that arched high to the ceiling. Those shelves had been one of the things she’d loved most about this place, along with the greenhouse. He remembered how her face had lit up at the thought of a ladder leading to books wrapped around the room.
She showed no signs of remembrance on her face.
Giving her space—for now—he pushed to his feet. “I want you to know I’ll be sleeping in the guest room.”
“Thank you. I realize this is tough for you, too.”
“That’s an understatement.” He repeated her words, except for his own reasons. “But I know it’s far worse for you. I want you to take your time, take care of yourself, and the baby.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
He was walking a tightrope, needing to give her space, but working with a ticking time bomb that meant she could remember their past at any moment.
For now, though, there was peace.
Since she was settled, this would be a neutral time to check on work without worrying about her getting angry at him.
He slid behind the desk and fired up his laptop, watching Shana out of the corner of his eye.
She shifted on the sofa and hugged a throw pillow over her stomach where their child was nestled, growing. “What are you working on?”
“Clearing away paperwork so I’ll have more days off to spend with you.”
“I’m not an invalid. And my mother will be here for a week.” She tipped her head to the side. “Are you one of those guys who can’t stand his mother-in-law?”
He weighed his words carefully as the truth could be tricky on this one. Her mom—Louise—had never seemed to warm to him. But then, she didn’t trust many people. Life had left her overcautious.
“About four years ago your mother took a job in California.” Louise was a civilian employed nurse at a military installation. “Most of the time, you visited her rather than having her coming back here.”
“Hmm...” Shana seemed to digest the information, glancing around the library, her gaze lingering on the laptop and the stack of files. “I’m sorry to keep you from the office.”
The words felt like a blow.
They’d had so many arguments over him being a workaholic. He didn’t think of his work that way since he loved his job. He’d been groomed to take over for his parents once they retired, except retirement hadn’t come. His father had died. His mother had doubled down, working to numb her grief. Only recently had she stepped back, since she’d fallen for her business rival. But now they were merging the oil companies.
It was a dangerous time for Chuck to take personal leave, but he didn’t have much of a choice. His wife needed him, and he needed to win her back. For his own sake, and for the sake of their child.
Their family’s future depended on it.
He felt the weight of her gaze on him and looked up.
Shana closed her book and reached for the mug of hot cocoa. “What’s going on?”
“Why do you ask?” He clamshelled his laptop, looking directly at her.
She set aside her mug and hugged her knees to her chest. “You look worried. I hate that I’m putting more stress on you. I know this has to feel even more awkward for you than it does for me.”
He shook his head dismissively. “What makes you say that? You’re the one who’s lost five years.”
“But I’m not the one whose spouse doesn’t remember me. I know that has to hurt, and I’m so sorry.”
She hugged her knees tighter, eyes locking with his. The heat rose between them in an undeniable connection, building like the crackling fire.
“I’m focused on what’s best for you.”
“Then what’s got you so worried? I don’t have to be a private detective to read the tension in you.”
He creaked back in the office chair, deciding to share. “We’ve been struggling with data leaks for a while, trying to follow the trails in email exchanges.”
“A mole in the company?” She uncrossed her legs and pushed herself off the couch. As she moved through the white room, her hands lingered on stray books on the coffee table. She walked to the fireplace and picked up a heavy crystal photo frame off the mantel—a picture of the two of them from a romantic train getaway, from Anchorage to the Arctic Circle. He’d been trying to cheer her up after a failed in vitro attempt.
“Seems so. We hired a new employee who, as it turns out, had a vendetta against us and the Steeles.”
“What does the spy have to say?” She set the frame down and drew closer. Lithe as ever. Hot as hell. She sank back into the sofa, curling up.
“She’s disappeared somewhere in Canada.” He righted his chair, then stood and walked toward her.
“And you’ve hired private investigators.”
“Of course.” He sat on the sofa, close enough that her toes grazed his thigh and the scent of her perfume tempted him to bury his face in her neck and inhale deeper. He recalled well how she always preferred floral scents in perfume, shampoo, even essential oils, all carrying through her love of flowers.
As much as he hated the unanswered questions at work, he welcomed the ease of being with Shana this way, without the anger of the past year that had torn their marriage apart.
“What do the investigators have to say about the data trails from her email exchanges?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?” She shook her head. “That’s strange.”
“And you think you could do better.”
“I surely couldn’t do any worse.”
He snorted on a laugh. “Fair enough. What are you proposing?”
“I don’t know how I used to spend my time while we were married, but I will go stir-crazy just sitting around. Let me do my part and take a stab at finding this woman.” She tapped his mouth before he could talk.
The feel of her fingers on him made him ache to clasp her wrist and pull her onto his lap. Seal his mouth to hers and lose themselves in the way they connected best.
But pushing too far, too fast would only harm his cause. So he simply took her arm and pressed a kiss to her palm before lowering her hand. Her throat moved in a long swallow that sent a surge of victory through him.
“So, Shana, how do you want to proceed?”
“Have the human resources department send me her application and any other information on her. I’ll start by digging around on the internet to see what I can find.”
He wanted to wrap her in a cocoon, keep her close to protect her. Shana was strong-willed, and her fire had attracted him to her from the first.
But her fire, her determination, also made things tough right now. If he wasn’t careful, she’d apply those investigative skills to their past.
Perhaps internet research would distract her from the amnesia, keep her from digging too deep into how things had been between them.
The last thing he wanted was for her to find out that on the day of her aneurysm, they’d decided to separate.
* * *
For the first time since waking up disoriented in the hospital room, Shana could finally breathe.
The warm shower sluicing down her back eased her tensed muscles. The stress came as much from her too-sexy husband as it did from any medical issues.
If only she could hide in the shower forever, just let the water wash away all tensions, all concerns. She would pretend for just a moment her life was simple and uncomplicated as the scent of her shampoo mingled with the aroma from the floral-scented candle she’d lit.
How could she have forgotten her marriage? Had the aneurysm wiped five years from her mind for life? Or was the loss stress-related, not coincidental that the memory loss started at the time she’d met her husband?
Trust was difficult enough for her under normal circumstances. She slid her hand over her stomach.
There was no room for error. The stakes were too high. And she needed to take care of her health, which included rest.
She turned off the shower and stepped out onto the heated floor. A sigh of pleasure slipped free. She definitely didn’t remember these, or any of the other luxuries from this life with Chuck Mega-Wealthy Mikkelson.
Except she was a Mikkelson now, too.
This was all too much to think about.
She should be relaxing. She tugged a towel free and dried off, then wrapped the fluffy cotton around her body. She squeezed water from her hair, making her way into the dressing area.
And slamming into a warm wall of hunky man.
Chuck.
Heat from the floor radiated up to send a flush of awareness through her body. Maybe it had been a bad idea moving in here with him as she waited for a cure for the amnesia. This kind of intimacy, the magnitude of their attraction, all of it so fast was...unsettling.
“Excuse me,” he said, clasping her shoulders, his broad hands launching a tingle of excitement through her breasts. “I was just coming in to get some clothes from our closet.”
Our closet.
She drew in a couple of steadying breaths. “I, uh...” Her mouth went dry. She clutched the towel in a fist between her breasts. She should step away.
Should.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
His thumbs moved along her collarbone. “I thought you were still downstairs in the kitchen.”
The touch scrambled her thoughts and stole her breath.
“I feel bad kicking you out of your bedroom,” she said, her eyes drawn to the vibrant green of his. “I can sleep in the guest room. It’s not like I’ll miss this space since I don’t remember it being mine.”
Theirs. Together.
Her gaze slid past him into the bedroom. How had they spent their time here before she’d become ill?
She looked up to the tray ceiling and toward the black fan. She felt disoriented, spinning and spinning, like the blades circulating heated air. She wondered if she’d ever stop circling around this awareness, this nagging feeling at the back of her mind.
She hated how she looked at the plush bed, with its overstuffed white pillows pressed against a headboard that practically went to the ceiling, and remembered...nothing.
This place felt foreign.
Even the pieces of her life that she recognized—like the antique perfume bottle from her grandmother on the mirrored bedside table—felt out of place. Familiar but not enough to comfort her.
She realized Chuck hadn’t responded. His eyes had been tracking hers as she struggled to deal with this attraction to a man she barely knew.
“I feel bad that things are so awkward between us,” she said.
“There’s no instruction manual for how to deal with this.”
She closed her eyes. Breathed in a hint of his aftershave, which sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the chilly day. She opened her eyes. “I’ve turned your life upside down.”
“More like you’re turning me inside out in that towel.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Heat stung her face.
“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault.” His hands slid down her arms and then away from her body as he stepped back. “Good night, beautiful. Sleep well.”
After the way his touch had felt?
Doubtful her night would be at all restful.
* * *
Chuck stretched back into the stiff off-white chair. He blinked his eyes clear, gearing up for another late night in his home office. The yellow light from the desk lamp dully illuminated the study.
He stacked Shana’s things on the desk, putting her paperwork off to the left side, adjacent to the floral arrangements she’d picked out only four days ago.
Might as well have been in another lifetime.
The prospect of divorce rattled him.
Mikkelsons didn’t fail.
He’d been unable to sleep after walking in on Shana coming out of the shower. Only a couple of days ago they’d been at each other’s throats. Now, desire lit up the room every time they were near.
But he saw the wariness in her eyes. And truth be told, he wasn’t interested in launching himself into the emotional shredder with her. He needed to save their marriage, but he also needed to keep things lighter between them. Surely they could enjoy the chemistry they shared and get back on an even footing in their relationship. Eventually, if this pregnancy came to term, they could also bring up their child.
Chuck shook his head, needing to focus. And not on Shana for the moment. For now, he needed to pay attention to the numbers on the chart in front of him and prepare for his late-night meeting.
He highlighted a few lines and scribbled thoughts off to the side. His messy handwriting populated the second page of the document. His eyes slid from the chart to his watch. 11:30 p.m.
Sure, it was an unconventional meeting time. But everything lately seemed mighty damn unconventional. He fired up his laptop and turned on another light in the office. He looked around at the space—his shared space with Shana—and could see all the memories. How she’d arranged the bookshelf first by genre, then by author. She loved reading. And he’d been happy to help her locate the perfect ladder, the perfect carpenter for the recessed bookshelves, the perfect table desk. A lifetime ago.
A lifetime he might have another shot at.
The ding of Broderick’s conference call interrupted Chuck. Right. Business. Broderick’s uncle Conrad was a night owl, too, so the late time didn’t faze him, either. As for Chuck, he welcomed the chance to throw himself into work for a while, no matter the time. Broderick had set the time for after his daughter was asleep.
The video feed lurched to life, pixels turning smooth. Conrad and Broderick sat in the conference room at the Alaska Oil Barons, Inc., office, clean-cut and ready.
No Jack Steele this go-around. Just his second-in-command, Broderick, Jack’s eldest son. And Jack’s brother Conrad stepping in to consult.
Conrad Steele leaned forward, deep blue eyes a stark contrast to his thick salt-and-pepper hair. In his deadpan way, no emotions entering his expression, Conrad asked, “How’re things with Shana?”
“Still no recollection of the past. But we’re settling into a new routine.” One full of desire that left Chuck aching. He wouldn’t mention that. “I appreciate your accommodating my working from home.”
Broderick nodded, brow tense as he leaned forward, too, setting a pen down on the dark wood conference table. “If you need time off, just say the word.”
Chuck barked a laugh. Time off was the furthest thing from his mind. “Last time I took a month for personal reasons, my brother threatened to break my legs.”
Conrad smiled tightly. “Trystan handled himself well with the press and at the fund-raiser.”
Trystan was the younger Mikkelson brother, who had been adopted by Jeannie and her first husband after his mother, Jeannie’s sister, had become addicted to drugs. He was as much a part of the family as all the other Mikkelson siblings.
“Other than punching the paparazzi.” Broderick shot his uncle a look.
The older man shrugged. “Some would say the situation warranted a fist to the face.”
Grinning, Chuck said, “And some would say you’re siding with my brother to cause trouble.”
Conrad steepled his fingers along his nose. “Trust between our families isn’t going to happen in a day.”
Hell yeah on that point. “Especially when people like Milla Jones are throwing around accusations about my family.”
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Catherine Mann
She can’t remember the last five years…Chuck Mikkelson knows Shana doesn’t remember him…or that she wanted a divorce. But now she’s back in his home, and he vows to save their union at all costs. Will their rekindled passion be enough to convince her to stay when her memory returns?
She can’t remember the last five years...
Or the man who says he’s her husband.
Chuck Mikkelson knows Shana doesn’t remember him...or that she wanted a divorce. But now she’s back in his home, and he vows to save their union at all costs. This may be the only chance he has to win back his wife. Will their rekindled passion be enough to convince her to stay when her memory returns?
USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, catherinemann.com (http://www.catherinemann.com).
Also by Catherine Mann (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
The Baby Claim
The Double Deal
The Love Child
The Twin Birthright
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Second Chance
Catherine Mann
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07690-6
THE SECOND CHANCE
© 2018 Catherine Mann
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my gifted and delightful editor, Stacy Boyd.
“Write to communicate to the hearts and minds of
others what’s burning inside … edit to let the fire
show through the smoke.” (Arthur Plotnik)
Contents
Cover (#u8d104a95-339f-5120-ba55-ea752b93cef1)
Back Cover Text (#u717a0fde-a8e1-537a-946c-48a466709abc)
About the Author (#u82f801b7-56d4-5066-b330-c9533b85660b)
Booklist (#ua44d311c-cc42-5cbc-9c29-62f7e7e309ca)
Title Page (#ue271775e-39f4-5231-8fb2-0918325e49ed)
Copyright (#ud45c65e1-b6d4-5cf1-ad28-be22bfdfd5b8)
Dedication (#u59bcccb1-0a92-59c1-8c18-1b2481eba66c)
Prologue (#uc241102e-9aa9-530b-a51f-5475cad9c526)
One (#uee6e597e-30b1-5545-8fbd-b93521254a76)
Two (#u3b54ebc7-3548-554b-8e58-5104888b8b47)
Three (#u5d7f9371-f352-553d-8c09-209329586aac)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Alaskan Oil Barons - Steele Mikkelson Family Tree (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Shana had once thought Chuck was the love of her life.
She’d have bet their marriage would last forever.
But today, Shana Mikkelson had to accept that she and Chuck were finished.
Now she just wanted peace, but peace was in short supply as she threw her husband’s jeans into a suitcase on their bed. The musky scent of him wafted up from the denim, filling her every breath like a drug she could only quit cold turkey.
Her grief was too deep for tears. Truth be told, there weren’t any tears left to shed. She’d just about cried herself into dehydration over this man. She tugged open his dresser drawer, scooped out an armful of socks and strode over to the bed again to dump them into his open luggage.
She kept her eyes on her task and off the bed where they’d made love so often—although not as much lately. She definitely kept her gaze away from her handsome husband, his strong jaw jutting as he threw gear into his shaving kit. Too easily, she could be drawn into the sensual lure of the bristle on his face or the temptation to stroke his perpetually mussed sandy-brown hair. His headful of cowlicks refused to fall in line with the rest of his traditional good looks in a way that somehow made him all the more appealing.
He was like his home state of Alaska, majestic and untamed. Commanding the eye, and yet opaque as a dense forest trailing up a mountainside.
His footsteps sounded along the hardwood floor as he approached her. The storm in his green eyes broadcast his silent protest to her edict that he move out. He was leaving under duress. Well, tough. She’d given him chance after chance. He would cut back at work only to plunge into the office twice as hard again. He wasn’t interested in significant change, and over time, that had diluted their love until there was nothing left.
Even their marriage counselor wore a defeated look the last time they’d seen him together.
Every weekly appointment since then? Chuck had canceled. Citing work conflicts—his standard reason for missed dinner dates, too. She’d stopped trusting his word long before that. Trust was already difficult for her, after the way her father had betrayed her and her mother. She didn’t think she would ever recover from the blow of finding out her dad had a secret second family.
Chuck’s extended absences wore on her. Deeply.
Shana swallowed back the painful past and focused on the present. The heartbreaking present.
They were finally expecting a baby.
After failed fertility treatments and three miscarriages, she’d gotten pregnant by surprise. Very much by surprise as their sex life had been on the rocks along with their marriage.
Their communication was at an all-time low. She needed the controlled setting of their counselor’s office to tell her husband about the baby. But since Chuck was a consistent no-show, he still didn’t know.
Sitting alone in the counselor’s office earlier that day, she’d reached the end of her rope. She was done. She would tell him about the baby once their separation was official. She couldn’t afford another emotional breakdown, bad for the health of the baby when Shana was already in such a stressful environment.
She stormed into his closet, wrapped her arms around four of his suits and lifted them from the rack. “This should get you through work until we can set aside a time for you to pick up the rest of your things.”
She slammed the bulk of designer suits into his open case on the bed.
“Shana, I’m sorry for missing the appointment.” He paced barefoot, faded jeans hugging his muscular thighs, his long-sleeved tee stretching across his broad shoulders. His hair was still damp from the shower he’d taken after work. “You have to understand the business merger comes with extra hours. I’ve bowed out of as many things as I can.”
Since the Mikkelson matriarch had married the Steele patriarch, the two former rival oil families were merging their families’ companies into Alaska Oil Barons, Inc. The lengthy process had siblings from both sides making power grabs at a time when stockholders needed to see unity.
“And yet you’re still secluded in the study every night.”
They did nothing together except sleep and eat. No more days spent horseback riding, snowmobiling and traveling. And as much as she wanted to trust Chuck that it was only work and that things would change, she could only bury her head in the sand for so long before she smothered to death.
“I’m doing my best, Shana. Things will get better as the merger takes root.”
“So you keep saying.” She tossed a handful of silk ties into the suitcase. “Every deadline you give for this magical easing at work just gets pushed back. I feel like a fool for believing you.”
“Damn it, Shana, you’ve got to see the effort.” He forked his hand through his hair. “I even had my antisocial brother stand in for me at that wildlife preservation fund-raiser. There aren’t as many Mikkelsons as there are Steeles. And with Mom and Glenna both married to Steeles, their loyalties are split in a way mine aren’t. I’m a Mikkelson. Period.”
As was the baby he knew nothing about.
Thinking about raising their child alone made her heart and head ache. Chuck would want to be a part of the child’s life. She didn’t doubt that. She just wasn’t sure how much time he would make for the baby.
Her ability to trust him had been eroded on so many levels.
Resolve strengthened, she faced him. “It’s quite clear where your heart lies.”
“That’s not fair, Shana. These are extreme times. If I scale back too much, the Steele family could eclipse our vision and our power,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Their bed. Nearly four years ago, when they’d married and built their dream home in Anchorage, she’d decorated their bedroom with such romantic hope in each detail of the modern French provincial decor.
They’d spent a lot of hours in this room—making love, sharing dreams. Until the third miscarriage had taken too much of a toll on both of them.
“Then by all means, don’t let me hold you back. Dig in.” She closed his suitcase with a decisive click and spun away hard and fast.
Too fast. The room spun and she gripped the footboard of the bed to keep from stumbling.
“Shana?”
She blinked fast to clear the spots dancing in front of her eyes, to quell the nausea from her blossoming headache.
If she could just get Chuck to leave so she could lie down and breathe...
“Please. Go.” She pushed free the two words, a mammoth undertaking with her stress headache spiking.
Why was he walking so slowly? She saw his mouth moving, but nothing was coming out. That didn’t make sense. And then he tipped.
Except no.
The whole room tipped because...
Her hand slid from the bed on her way to the floor.
One (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Thirty-six hours later
Until today, Charles “Chuck” Mikkelson had run out of ideas for a second chance with his wife. Admitting defeat had never been an option for him, professionally or personally.
But amnesia as a do-over with Shana was extreme, even for him.
Surely he’d heard the neurologist wrong. Chuck’s gut knotted. “Do you mean Shana is disoriented? Fuzzy on things like the time or date? Forgot what she had for dinner?”
After all, she’d suffered a minor aneurysm that had left her unconscious for just over thirty-six hours. The longest day and a half of his life. But finally, she was awake. Alive.
Two physicians occupied the secluded sitting area where Chuck had been brought after a staffer located him grabbing a bite in the cafeteria while a privately hired nurse sat with Shana. Chuck couldn’t believe his wife had actually woken up the one time he’d stepped away from her hospital room. The neurologist—Dr. Harris—sat beside Chuck. Another of Shana’s physicians stood at the window. Snow was coming down in thick sheets of white, as if the hospital sterility was outside as well as indoors.
“Shana is disoriented, but it’s more than that,” Dr. Harris explained slowly from the chrome-and-leather chair he’d pulled around to face Chuck. “You need to accept that she has lost her memory.”
Amnesia. The word still ricocheted around in Chuck’s brain. “She doesn’t know who she is?”
Dr. Harris closed the tablet that he’d used earlier to show the part of her brain that was affected. “Actually, she does know her name. She recalls details about herself. The memory loss focuses on more recent events.”
“How recent?” Chuck asked, unease creeping up his spine.
“She has the month correct. But five years prior.”
Five years ago? That meant... “She doesn’t remember anything about me.”
Much less about being married to him. There were some times between them lately he wouldn’t mind forgetting. But the thought of losing memories of the good times with Shana?
Unthinkable.
The two doctors exchanged somber looks before Shana’s other doctor took a seat in the other wingback. Dr. Gibson was young, but tops when it came to fertility specialists. It meant a lot to Chuck that the man had shown up to weigh in on Shana’s condition even though they weren’t trying for another baby.
“Chuck, I’m sorry to say, she does not remember you,” Dr. Gibson said in the quietly comforting tone he’d used during Chuck and Shana’s failed in vitro and three miscarriages. A phantom sucker punch to the gut wracked Chuck.
It had been bittersweet when Dr. Gibson had assisted in caring for Chuck’s stepsister two months ago, after she delivered twins in a car. Pretending nothing was wrong had been hard as hell for Chuck, and Shana hadn’t wanted his comfort.
“We were having trouble. Do you think this memory loss is more psychological than physical?”
He’d blamed himself repeatedly for this aneurysm. If they hadn’t been fighting, if intense emotions hadn’t raised her blood pressure, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.
“There’s no question she’s had an aneurysm, and she’s incredibly lucky to have come through it so well. But that’s not to say there aren’t psychological aspects in play. The body and mind work in tandem.”
Staring at the tablet in the doctor’s hand, Chuck moved toward a planter, something to rest on. “How do we proceed from here? What do we tell her, and what’s her prognosis?”
“I realize that you need answers, but it’s too early to project the long term. For now, the counselor on staff here suggests we answer questions as she asks them, no additional information,” Dr. Harris warned. “A psychiatrist will be consulting. Things are still so very new.”
The obstetrician leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Let’s focus on the positives. Shana’s awake and physically fine. The baby’s heartbeat is strong. That’s news to celebrate.”
Chuck frowned, certain he’d misunderstood. Gibson had to be confusing patients after a late shift.
Dr. Harris straightened. “The baby?”
“What baby?” Chuck said precisely. Because no way could Shana be pregnant now of all times. The dark irony of that would be too much to entertain.
Dr. Gibson’s eyebrows shot up before he schooled his face back into an alarmingly blank expression. “She didn’t tell you about the pregnancy?”
Chuck shook his head slowly, stunned, half-certain there was an error. Fate couldn’t be this twisted.
“Shana is expecting,” he said baldly. “Two months along. And from your reaction, Chuck, she hadn’t told you yet.”
Chuck sifted through the hell of the past day and a half. There hadn’t been any need to call Dr. Gibson in on the case on a weekend. Chuck had said no to the possibility of pregnancy when the admission staff had asked.
Now he realized the truth of it. Shana had gotten pregnant without an in vitro procedure.
The reality slammed into Chuck like a ton of bricks. Against all odds, they were expecting a child.
Now.
He couldn’t even sort through the layers of “stunned” to feel anything but shock.
Chuck’s mind winged back to their attending the baptism for his sister Glenna’s daughter. He and Shana had actually spent a week getting along, drawn into their hopes for the future, loving their niece and considering adoption. Glenna clearly loved Fleur, no biological bond needed.
Emotions running high, Chuck and Shana had spent a week in bed together. A week that had apparently defied their odds and borne fruit. He had to be there for Shana and their child.
Dr. Harris opened his tablet again, scrolling through his notes. “While I wish we had known so we could have monitored the fetus, none of the medications she’s received should present a risk to the baby’s development. We’ll keep Shana another night for monitoring.”
Dr. Gibson said, “We’ll also do an ultrasound and start her on progesterone given her prior miscarriages.”
Chuck nodded, still reeling. A baby. She was two months along. She’d known and she hadn’t told him. Worse yet, she’d thrown him out without telling him she carried his child.
She’d probably realized that if she told him about the baby, it would have taken a force of nature to budge him from their house. He didn’t have the luxury of anger right now.
Dr. Gibson tilted his head, placing a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “I realize this is difficult for you, too. You’ve both been waiting for this baby for so long, and these aren’t the circumstances anyone could have foreseen.” He gestured toward the door. “Perhaps seeing you will jog her memory.”
And therein lay his problem.
He didn’t want her to remember.
Because if she did?
Shana would walk, taking their baby with her.
* * *
Shana pushed herself up on the hospital bed, taking her time to be sure the room didn’t spin as it had the last time she’d tried. People were acting strange around her, and she wanted answers. Instead, she was stuck lying here alone with only a view of snow slamming down on the mountains.
Well, alone except for a nurse who’d been there since she’d woken up and hadn’t left her side, even when the doctors stopped by, doctors who’d been short of answers as to why she was here. Even her phone was missing and the remote control for the TV wasn’t working. The nurse said it would be fixed soon.
Shana touched her head, exploring her hairline. A small bandage was located just behind her ear. She’d been assured her long hair covered the shaved patch. The doctor had only told her she’d suffered a minor aneurysm, but that otherwise she was physically fine. Beyond that, they’d been cagey.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what had happened before she’d come to the hospital. The last thing she recalled was an argument with her mother over Shana’s refusal to reconcile with her father. Even thinking about the fight and her dad made her headache worse.
She knew avoidance when she heard it. Her work as a private detective had taught her all the signs. She also had a sixth sense for these things and trusted her gut.
Something was going on beyond what they’d told her.
Turning to the nurse, who was making updates on the dry-erase board in her room, Shana asked, “Excuse me? When will the doctor be back? I have questions.”
Being in limbo was scary. Her imagination was working overtime.
Just as the nurse opened her mouth to answer, a knock sounded and the door opened to admit a man. Not the doctor who’d been by to check her out when she’d woken. And even though it felt like a slew of staff had come through her room in the past half hour, she would have remembered this guy. He had an unforgettable face, movie-star quality in a rough-around-the-edges way. His light brown hair was just long enough to be mussed by a woman’s fingers, coarse hair that would rasp the skin.
A doctor? He didn’t have on a white coat. In fact, he was dressed more casually than any doctor she knew. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that bore the wrinkles of someone who’d pulled a long shift. But his sea green eyes were what held her attention in an unbreakable grip. The colors shifted with the icy intensity of a winter sea.
What crazy thoughts to be having right now, but the tug of attraction made her feel normal on a day that was entirely too abnormal.
“I appreciate that you’re all being thorough, but I need to get in touch with my mother. I just want to call her, and no one will give me a phone.”
Or a remote control. Or a mirror. Or answers.
Okay, this was getting really weird.
Strangely, the nurse left the room. Physicians usually kept a nurse with them for exams. Although the door had been left open.
“Your mother is on her way. She should be here tomorrow.” He stopped by the bed, large hands grasping the bedrail.
Before she could help herself, she checked his ring finger and found...
A wedding band.
Disappointment cooled the attraction. So much for drooling over Mr. Cover Model. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. She should be focused on more serious matters rather than this sexy distraction.
“Which doctor are you?” She settled on the reasonable question, a thousand more zipping around in her fuzzy brain.
“You should rest,” he said evasively. “You’ve been through a lot. Your body needs to recharge.”
“Aren’t you a doctor?” She massaged her temple. “Or an occupational therapist? I can’t recall. There were so many people in the room when I woke up.”
“I’m not your doctor.”
A nervous skitter started up her spine, like something shifting behind a mist, just out of reach. “Remind me who you are?”
“My name is Chuck, and I’m going to get your doctor.” He backed up a step. “Things are...complicated.”
“Well, Chuck, I’ve had people checking me and asking questions, but no one has been answering mine.” Panic rose inside her. “Tell me what’s going on, or give me a phone to speak to my mother. Why are you keeping her from me?”
“Your mother is flying in.” He held up a calming, reassuring hand that somehow only made things worse. “She’s not available to talk yet.”
A pit formed deep in her belly. The walls bore down on her.
Nothing was as it seemed.
This place was starting to feel like a jail, except the private room full of high-tech equipment and flowers was far too posh for incarceration. She needed to get her life in order, call her mom, check in with her boss about her caseload and an upcoming court case she would be testifying in.
“Then I guess that leaves you or the doctor to tell me, because lying here waiting is most definitely stressing me out.” She swung her legs out from under the sheet.
The room spun.
Chuck rushed forward and clasped her arm. His touch was at once both steadying and unsettling.
Her gaze went back to that glinting wedding band. The spark of awareness made her feel ill. Married cheaters were the worst. Her father’s deceit had left a wake of devastation. The room started spinning again but in a different way from having wobbly legs.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
“I need to know what’s going on and if you won’t tell me—” she reached for the call button “—then I’m going to find someone who will.”
He released her arm. “Okay, we’ll talk. There’s no agenda here other than looking out for your health. Any question you have, I will answer honestly.”
Alarms went off in her mind. When people said words like honestly and truthfully, that usually meant they had something to lie about. “I want to know why everyone is acting so strange around me.”
“The aneurysm has affected your memory,” he said slowly, carefully.
Her memory? The weight of that word hit her hard. “How so?”
“You’ve forgotten the past five years.”
His words slammed into her, adding a push to that merry-go-round feel in her head. “Five years? Gone. And we know each other?”
Even as her world spiraled, the confusion faded as the logical answer came together—his lack of a medical coat, his familiarity...and the wedding band.
Face somber, Chuck rested his hands on her shoulders, holding her gaze with his. “We more than know each other. I’m your husband.”
* * *
The horrified expression on Shana’s face was damn near insulting. Her gaze shot to his wedding band, then back up to his eyes.
Color drained from her already pale face. She sagged back down into the hospital bed, her blond hair splashing across the pillow. He wanted to protect her, to find some way to wrestle their problems into submission. Not that he’d ever had much luck with that. He needed to put aside his own feelings and focus on her. Focus on keeping her calm—and making the most of this time to heal the rift between them.
Shana thumbed her own bare ring finger. “Married? To each other?”
“For almost four years. Your jewelry was taken off when you were admitted to the hospital.” He tapped her ring finger lightly, the softness of her skin so familiar—and seductive. Even in the middle of the worst crisis of his life.
She had a beauty and fire that rocked even a hospital gown.
“You’re my husband? I... Why... What happened? This is, um, overwhelming.”
“I realize it’s a lot to absorb.” He pulled a chair closer and sat, taking both of her hands in his. “The doctor said the memory loss could be temporary.”
“Or it could be permanent.” She didn’t pull away, but she did look at their clasped hands with confusion. “How long have we known each other?”
Those soft blue eyes turned hawkish, reading him like an X-ray machine. He nodded, clearing his throat. Determined to deliver objective facts. To not make this worse.
“We met nearly five years ago.” He watched her closely to gauge her reaction. He felt like he knew her so well, but also not at all.
How much of the essence of Shana would still exist with the memory loss?
Questions flooded his mind with too many potential futures to absorb at once.
“So my amnesia starts from right before I met you?” she said slowly, suspicion filling her eyes.
She was too astute. It seemed her private investigator skills were as honed as ever.
“It appears so,” he said, treading carefully through this discussion that was full of land mines. “I don’t expect you to take my word for anything. Talk to my family, talk to your mother, whatever you need to do to feel reassured.”
“You have family nearby?”
“I do. A large family. My mother and some of my siblings live in Anchorage, except for my brother, who’s closer to Juneau.” He shared the details carefully, watching for signs of recollection. Her amnesia could disappear at any moment and she would go back to tossing him out on his ass. “My mother recently remarried and her new husband has an even larger family, mostly local, too.”
“A big family is a blessing.” Her blue eyes shone with a pain he recognized.
Learning of her father’s hidden second family had wounded Shana deeply as a teen. She had three half siblings she’d never met. Her father’s betrayal had cut so deeply that Shana still had trouble trusting. Chuck knew he needed to keep that in mind now more than ever. If he made a misstep, this could go so very wrong.
But he couldn’t let her go, especially not now.
He would do what was necessary to protect Shana, and their unborn baby.
There’d been a time when they talked of having at least four children. Life had a different plan for them.
“Considering my family and Mom’s new husband’s family have been business enemies for decades, we weren’t sure about the blessing part at first. Family reunions are dicey, but it’s starting to shake out.”
“So you and I are happily married?”
Now, there was a loaded question. “We had our problems like any other couple,” he hedged.
The last thing he wanted to lead with was their hellish fight right before her aneurysm, a fight that had her hauling his clothes from the closet as she told him to move out. But the doctor had said to answer honestly. He could offer up part of their issues without tipping his hand. “We had been going through fertility treatments to start a family, and that put a strain on us.”
“But we were committed enough that we wanted a child together.”
“Want a child. Present tense.” He very much intended to be a full-time father to their child. If this pregnancy went well, Chuck would do everything in his power to be there for his kid.
“You have to realize I’m overwhelmed by all of this.” She threaded her fingers through her long, honeyed hair, over her ear, her eyes widening. “Amnesia? It’s something we all know about, but I never imagined it could actually happen to me.”
“Of course. It’s a lot. Take your time. I’m here for you, whatever you need, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you—” She frowned, pressing her temples.
“People call me Chuck,” he reminded her. “Or Charles.”
“What did I call you?”
The last time they’d been together, she’d called him a list of names better left unsaid right now. “You called me Chuck.”
“Thank you, Chuck.”
The way her voice wrapped around his name sounded as familiar as ever.
A tap sounded on the door. “Hello?”
A recognizable voice called out an instant before the door opened to the youngest of his siblings—Alayna.
The shiest of them all, she entered hesitantly. There’d been a time as a child when she was as talkative as the rest of them, but then she’d changed. Withdrawn. Telling her to leave would be like plucking wings off a butterfly.
But he’d hoped to keep his family out of this situation a little while longer until he could explain the amnesia to them. Alayna had a quiet way of slipping past people’s defenses. While the family probably hadn’t noticed she’d left, the staff here likely had been charmed and unaware she was supposed to be anywhere but here.
Hell, even he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at her for caring so much.
Alayna rushed to Shana’s bedside and hugged her gently. “Thank goodness you’re awake. I’ve been so worried.”
Shana stared over his sister’s shoulder with wide, surprised eyes. “Uh, hello, thank you.”
Stepping back, Alayna sank into a chair. “I’m so relieved you’re awake, and healthy, and the baby’s okay. It’s a miracle.”
How the hell had she heard the news? And damn, he needed to say something quickly before—
Shana’s surprised look shifted to outright stunned.
“The baby?”
Two (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
A baby?
Panic and confusion rocked Shana, the young woman’s voice still ringing in her ears. She had a child as well as a husband? Her hand slid to her stomach, still flat. Surely there must be some kind of mistake.
Unless they meant a child that had already been born.
“We have a child?” Shana asked, her mind spinning. “How old? You say the child’s okay. Did something happen when I had the aneurysm? Was I driving a car or holding—?”
“Nothing like that.” He looked sideways at Alayna, who appeared even more confused than Shana felt.
Slack-jawed, the young woman—late teens, perhaps?—glanced back and forth between them. “I don’t understand—”
Chuck placed a silencing hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Shana, I’d hoped to share this more carefully, but here goes. You’re eight weeks pregnant.”
Air whooshed from her lungs. Her ears rang. She could barely wrap her brain around this latest shock. “It’s... I...um, I don’t know what to say.”
The young woman tugged on her overlong sweater nervously, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... Well, I’m just so sorry.”
Chuck slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze even though his eyes broadcast frustration. “Meet my sister.” He turned to the younger woman. “Alayna, Shana’s suffering from temporary amnesia and has forgotten about the past five years. You couldn’t have known. Although I’m curious as hell how you heard about the pregnancy.”
Alayna chewed her already short fingernails. “I thought... Oh my. I’m sorry. I was walking by the nurses’ station and overheard them talking about things for shift change... I’m really sorry.”
Chuck pulled a tight smile. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo. Shana just has some gaps in her memory. It’ll all sort out.”
Shana wished she could be as confident about that. She’d thought about being a mom someday, but this was too much too fast. Not that it seemed she had any choice in the matter. Her life was on warp speed.
Her father had wrecked her mother’s life. Shana had always known when it was her time to be a parent, the decision would have to be made slowly and carefully. If she and Chuck had been trying for a child, then their marriage must have been solid.
So why didn’t she feel like the love-at-first-sight lightning bolt had hit her? Lust maybe, but not love.
“Shana, I’m really sorry to have confused you or made things more difficult.” Fidgeting, Alayna ducked out from under her brother’s arm and stood. “I’ll just leave, and we can talk another time when things are less, well, confusing. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Or rather, she hoped it would be. Shana exhaled hard, unsure how she felt about carrying a child she couldn’t recall conceiving versus there being a child already in the picture, a child she also wouldn’t have remembered giving birth to.
Alayna held up a hand. “I really do apologize.” She backed away. “I love you to pieces, Shana.”
Standing, Chuck cupped Alayna’s shoulder. “If you could get coffee for me I would appreciate it.” He pulled a twenty out of his wallet. “Get something for yourself, too. Thanks, kiddo.”
Once the door closed, Shana pushed herself up to sit straighter in the bed, unsure when she’d sunk into a slouch.
Chuck rubbed the back of his neck, frustration in his eyes. “I apologize for not managing the news better.”
“How could you have predicted any of this? No one could.” An understatement.
“You’re being too understanding.” He sank back in the chair by her bed.
“Well, I do have some questions.” Even thinking about the possibilities sent a fresh wave of panic through her, but not knowing was worse. “The child is yours, right?”
“Absolutely yes,” he said without hesitation. “The baby is mine. And no, we don’t have any other children.”
She hadn’t even considered that. But what else didn’t she know? Five years was a long time to make significant memories. Life-changing memories.
“You said we’d struggled with fertility.” She chewed her fingernail. “There’s just so much to learn about what’s happened over the past five years.”
And her brain was on overload, weighing every nugget of information before she trusted the latest revelation. Even well-meaning people had private agendas. And she also knew how easily a person could be misled by someone smooth at lying. Her father had taught her that lesson too painfully.
“Then we won’t press any further today.” He covered her hand with his and held tight. “I would really feel more comfortable if we called the doctors back in and let them check you over or give us more guidance.”
His touch felt...familiar somehow. Strong, yet careful all at once.
She couldn’t deny the wisdom in his words. “I just want to know one more thing for now.”
He grinned—the first time she’d seen him smile, or remembered seeing him smile—and it shone from his eyes, setting her senses buzzing.
He was sheer magnetism personified.
“Like I have the option of arguing with you?”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “Apparently you do know me well. Better than I know myself at the moment, which brings me to my question. What’s my last name? Or rather, what’s your last name? Did I keep my maiden name?”
His smile faded and he clasped her hand, the left one without a wedding ring. “You took my surname. It’s Mikkelson.”
Surprise spread through her. “As in the oil family Mikkelsons?”
“Yes, the same.” He nodded.
There was a wariness to him she couldn’t quite understand. Maybe people befriended him for his money. That would have never crossed her mind. Still, a lot of things made more sense now.
“No wonder I have this private room. Your parents own Mikkelson Oil.” She pressed her fingers to the headache starting again.
“It’s not Mikkelson Oil anymore. My father passed away nearly three years ago. My mother recently married the head of Steele Oil—widower Jack Steele—merging the two companies into Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.”
For what should be big news, he didn’t look all that happy about it.
“I’m sorry about your father.” She squeezed his hand and a shiver of electricity passed between them, like static popping through her.
His thumb stroked along the inside of her wrist over her speeding pulse. “Thank you. He was fond of you.”
“I wish I remembered that.”
“Me too.”
Awareness increased until the static between them was like a meteor shower. Beautiful...but something she feared could leave her scorched.
The door opened again with a call at the same time. “Dr. Gibson here.”
Chuck cleared his throat and stepped back. “He’s your ob-gyn.”
Dr. Gibson entered, wheeling a machine of some sort, with a nurse trailing behind. “I hear the two of you were going to have a discussion.”
Chuck nodded. “I’ve told Shana I’m her husband, and she knows about the baby.”
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Gibson stopped beside her bed.
“Overwhelmed. A little woozy. But mostly just confused.”
“That’s understandable,” he said with a kind bedside manner that must have been reassuring during all the fertility treatments Chuck had mentioned. “The nurse is going to check your blood pressure, and then we’re going to do an ultrasound. We’ll go as slowly as you need us to.”
Shana’s heart skipped a beat. So much was happening so quickly she wanted to tell them all to slow down, to stop altogether. But life didn’t work that way. She had to face the present. “No need to wait. I want to know as much as I can.”
“Ask anything you like, and I’ll do my best to answer,” Dr. Gibson said. “Are you all right with Mr. Mikkelson staying in the room? I understand these are rather unusual circumstances.”
Shana looked at Chuck. He was her husband. Everyone here knew that. And this was his child. As strange as it felt to have him in the room, he had a right to be here. The past day must have been hellish for him with her health scare. “Of course he can stay.”
“Thank you.” Chuck took her hand in his, his touch strong and confident.
Those green eyes of his held her, reminding her again of a changeable rolling sea. She could so easily dive in, immerse herself in him.
Lose herself.
And that made him dangerous.
Her first priority right now was deciphering who she was.
She couldn’t afford to let down her guard around the one man she should be able to trust with her life.
* * *
The next day, as Chuck checked Shana out of the hospital, he was still reeling from seeing that ultrasound.
Snow gathered on the ground. The blacktop parking lot looked more like a field than a place for cars. But he, too, felt like he’d fallen away from the present moment.
He recalled instead a different moment. The first time Shana had announced a pregnancy. The promise and hope of that moment. So different than this one.
He had fantasized about a future with Shana and a kid on the way, but in no realm had his fantasies played out this way. They’d watched ultrasounds together in the past, but they had given up on ever seeing one again.
And now, Chuck was preparing to take his pregnant wife home.
A wife who didn’t remember him.
He stepped out of the hospital and into the crisp morning air, an orderly wheeling Shana beside Chuck. His personal staffer had brought around his Escalade, the exhaust puffing clouds into the cold. The snow was pristine after yesterday’s storm, piles on the side of the roads from snowplows clearing the way.
As the driver opened the passenger door and left the engine running for Chuck to drive, Chuck held out his hand for his wife. His pregnant wife.
The ultrasound had made this so real.
There was a baby in the mix of this insane time in his life—the merger, the long hours, the amnesia, and a second chance with Shana he didn’t want to waste.
Growing up, he’d dreamed of having a perfect marriage like his parents. That wasn’t going to happen. He and Shana had too much water under the bridge, and for too long.
But Chuck had never failed at anything in his life. He didn’t want his marriage to be the first. Which meant he needed to use this time together to win over his wife.
* * *
Shana spent much of the drive back home in a state of shock, mixed with wary hope that surely her memory would be jogged by something. Soon.
So far, no luck.
The streets leading away from the hospital had markers of familiarity, but her mind whirred. Her memory of the main highway was five years out of date.
Five years.
Such a significant amount of time. She tried to conjure up a holiday, an image of her wedding day. Tried to imagine where she might have tied the knot. Wondered who her best friend was.
But no memories pounded against her mind’s eye. Just an ultrasound image and a cyclone of questions.
Questions that hammered harder at her chest as they pulled up to their house. Her home. The home she shared with Chuck, heir to an oil empire and sexy as hell in a Stetson. Chuck had told her that her mother would be going straight from the airport to their house. There had been some delays with her flight.
And as they turned the corner, Shana took in the mammoth structure, eyes moving past the snow-covered arbor to the chimney puffing gray smoke rings against the iced sky. So many rooms, so many memories that refused to materialize. Had they picked this place out together? Had she determined which trees should be placed where?
The automatic security gate slid back to reveal a clear view of the massive two-story house with a French country charm. More of that wary hope filled her as she studied the home and grounds. Would she recognize any of it? Whitewashed brick and porches. So many porches on every floor, enclosed and open, as if there was enough space to accommodate any season.
Beautiful, but unfamiliar.
She’d grown up with security, in a cute ranch-style home made of brick. Her mother had worked at the local air force base as a nurse. Her father had always claimed he was short of money. She’d heard her parents fight about it. Sometimes the words were distinguishable, most of the time not. But in the words that had trickled through, her mom had accused him of having a drinking problem. Another time she’d questioned him about a gambling addiction, even other women. The possibility of him supporting a whole second family had never come up, so far as Shana had known.
Who would suspect that?
God, trust was tough, but right now she wasn’t in a position to walk away. She didn’t even know who she was.
And if this pregnancy lasted, she wanted to give her child a chance at a loving home and family.
She shook off the past. She hated dwelling on such negative notions and letting her father have real estate in her brain. He didn’t deserve so much as a passing thought. Instead, she focused on the house where, according to Chuck, she’d lived for nearly four years.
The property seemed to be about five acres. In addition to the mansion, the grounds had a small barn and a five-car garage. High-end cars lined the driveway, snow billowing down on them. The counselor had encouraged her to have a controlled meeting of the family as early as Shana could agree to it. Shana had replied that the tension of wondering was worse.
So Chuck’s family was here, waiting for her arrival.
If only the curtain would rise, revealing her past. This was a magnificent place set against the mountain range. Would she feel more at peace when she saw the decor? Would she recognize her influence in the home?
Modern French provincial was her style. A promising omen.
“Did we decorate together, or did you leave it all to me?”
“We chose artwork together, but the rest is all you.” His face was angular in the glow from the dash. With the sun setting early, the headlights cast stripes ahead as he neared their home, passing a frozen pond.
“Were you okay with that?”
“Completely. We blended both of our tastes where it mattered to me. For example, I had some antlers from a hunting trip with my father that I wanted to keep, and you honored that wish in a thoughtful way.”
“How so?”
He parked under a portico, the vehicle still running, heat pumping. “You incorporated them into a massive chandelier with candles over our dining room table. It’s a great tribute to my dad.”
The nostalgia in his voice drew her closer.
“I wish I could remember having met him.” Or remember any of the past five years with Chuck. She swallowed, frustrated at the void. The not knowing.
Chuck stroked her hair back from her face. “Losing him was hard on all of us. For you, too.”
Her hand gravitated to his jaw and she let herself test the bristly feel of him under the guise of offering comfort. “You’re named for him.”
“You remember?” He looked up sharply, those attentive eyes causing her cheeks to heat.
“Not the way you mean. It’s more of a guess that feels right.” She couldn’t miss the wariness in his eyes, something that hinted he would rather she didn’t remember. A shiver rippled through her and she pulled her hand away. “Although I don’t have a clue who each of those cars belongs to.”
He pointed to the first car. “That’s my mother’s. She wanted to see you in the hospital, but I didn’t want you overwhelmed with new faces.”
Was that true? Or did his family not like her and that’s why only his younger sister had been around?
Either way, he’d been right to keep them away from the hospital, because with Shana’s memory of the past five years still a no-show, she was starting to panic over going into her house emotionally blind to re-meet so many people who already knew her.
Maybe having them come over hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
But now it was too late to go back.
As the thick door swung open and she stepped through, a sheer mass of humanity greeted her. When Chuck said he had a big family, she hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant.
Her eyes flicked as she tried to take in all these new—and yet not new—people and this house at the same time. A tall blonde woman with a baby on her hip leaned against the iron railing of the staircase, her smile warm and welcoming. A cluster of people stood on the white-and-brown-dappled fur rug, crowding around the plush chairs.
Chuck pronounced their names as they moved, but Shana’s head throbbed at all the information. She tried to imagine picking out the furniture with the man who held her steady as she pushed through a barrage of people.
People who seemed genuinely concerned for her. People who felt like strangers.
They moved further into the house, her hand reaching out to touch the wall as they turned from the entry hall into the dining room. Her eyes scanned the long wooden table flanked by eight large chairs. It held a table setting for two.
A snapshot of daily life.
Bouquets of fresh flowers and tall candles ran down the table’s spine. A familiar touch—a tradition from her mother. She’d brought that here, to her life as a married woman.
A small comfort. But a comfort she embraced, the kind of nod from the universe that something made sense. It gave her the strength to meet even more people.
It helped to divide them into two family trees rather than take them in as one mass of blended family. Chuck’s mother, Jeannie, was head of the Mikkelson clan with two sons and two daughters. Jack Steele—Jeannie’s new husband—had five adult children, three sons and two daughters. His oldest son was married to Chuck’s oldest sister, and the couple had a baby girl. The oldest Steele daughter was married to a scientist and they had twin baby girls.
Shana’s heart tugged at the sight of those little ones, reminding her of the child she’d only just learned she carried but that she already loved. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled hearing that Jack had lost his wife and another daughter in a plane crash over fifteen years ago. It had probably been big news across the state at the time, given the prominence of this family.
“It’s kind of you all to come greet me.” She sank into one of the chairs in the living room, Chuck staying close behind her. His presence, the touch of his hand to her shoulder, stirred something in her. A feeling. A pull. A recognition.
But the touch couldn’t assuage her frustration or the dizzying impact of re-meeting five years’ worth of connections. She glanced up at Chuck, his sandy-brown hair tousled upward. It caught the light reflecting off the mirror that hung above the mantel.
A mirror world indeed.
She struggled to force that memory of ordering the piece to her mind’s eye. Even as she studied the antlers in front of her, she failed to locate the story from her perspective. All that Shana had was the retelling of a memory that Chuck had shared with her.
As if he knew her distress, Chuck gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.
The smile lines on Jeannie’s face deepened. A warm smile. One Shana wanted to take comfort in. The older woman gave a knowing nod. “I can tell by Chuck’s face that he thinks we’re overwhelming you. But when we heard your mother’s flight was delayed for snow, we wanted to bring you something to welcome you home. We’re here just to lay eyes on you, bring you food, then be on our way.”
“You’re hoping that if I see you, it’ll jog my memory. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t. I may never remember. Thank you for trying, though. For caring.” She swallowed, hard. Leaned back into the wooden chair. Looked at the faces of the Mikkelsons and the Steeles. Noted how comfortable they seemed around the long dining room table. Knew their appearance here to be motivated by love.
Somehow that recognition pained her.
“I’m just glad you’re alive and well,” Jeannie said. “And know we’re all only a phone call away if you have any questions.”
“I appreciate it. Please stay for dinner.” Shana bit her lip. Wishing she had something more to say. Wishing this whole meeting could somehow miraculously deliver up the memories she sought, for herself and for her child. And for this sexy man at her side? For the love she must have lost?
Why was it so difficult to wrap her brain around?
Disappointment swamped her.
In spite of Chuck’s family’s warm welcome, Shana still couldn’t shake an unsettled feeling.
She couldn’t stop searching for a reason why she was so certain there was trouble in paradise.
Three (#ue1c1bd2e-1b84-5856-bc40-52f695b69e5d)
Chuck leaned on the door frame, hand up in a static wave as darkness flooded the horizon. The light from his sister’s car blinded him ever so briefly as she threw her SUV into Reverse. He was still unsure how the events of the last several hours had gone.
Running a hand through his thick hair, he stretched, his neck popping. Releasing some of the tension he’d carried.
The night had been an exercise in dodging one land mine after another, worrying about what his family might reveal. He appreciated their concern, and Shana had been emphatic about seeing them, hoping somehow that their appearance would break the dam to release her memories.
All the more reason for him to hustle them out the door. If only he’d managed to dissuade Shana from inviting them in the first place. But to push her to wait would have made her suspicious. He needed her calm. He needed to gain time with Shana, time enough to forge a connection strong enough that she wouldn’t leave.
All the more reason he was glad to see his family off. Finally, the last of them had left. Exhaling hard, Chuck closed the door and armed the security system.
Shana should be resting. She was fresh out of the hospital, pregnant and disoriented. Although she’d seemed to welcome the distraction of other people in the house, most likely to keep from being alone with him.
At least his family had been sensitive enough not to mention their marital problems. However, his mother had pulled out photo albums in an attempt to help jog Shana’s memories—including his and Shana’s wedding pictures, none of which had sparked the least bit of remembrance. A relief. And strangely irksome as well.
Chuck scrubbed a hand over his jaw, striding past the dining room, cleared by extra staff he’d hired to help during Shana’s recovery. Even though he now employed a chef, his family had left behind enough food for an army even though they’d all eaten their fill until the candles had burned down in the silver candelabras. Even as he’d wished them gone, he’d been grateful for the positive spin they’d put on his marriage. Their presence had given off a happy family vibe he needed to stress with his wife.
As much as he told himself to take one day at a time, Chuck found he needed to have this settled, to know Shana would be staying with him. There was no room for compromise on this matter.
A few steps farther down the corridor, he discovered Shana in the study, reading on the sofa, a mug of hot cocoa on the coffee table. A blaze roared in the fireplace. Above, snow piled on the skylights, hiding nearly all of the inky night sky. Her hair was loose down her back, her legs curled up under her.
So many times, he’d found her like this in the past. In the early days of their marriage, he wouldn’t have thought twice about joining her there, skimming his hands up her lovely legs. Kissing her senseless. Peeling her clothes away until they were both naked, the firelight licking shadows over their skin.
At one time, he’d thought they had a future. Now...
He had to ensure that her future—his child’s future—included him.
Perhaps he could recover some ease with her in this room, in a space where they’d been happy. So often they’d shared time in the study, both of them in here while he’d worked from home. Even a year ago, they had still been close enough that he could distract her from her work with a neck massage, or an impromptu dance when her favorite song popped into the speakers from her playlist. Hopefully, those moments would happen again someday soon.
Because no matter what the past had held for them, or what the future promised, he still desired her.
He knelt on one knee by the sofa. “How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted, but cared for.” She bit her lip before continuing, “I’d hoped meeting your family would spark memories, but no luck.”
Guilt pinched, but it was best for all of them if she didn’t remember right away.
Or ever.
He picked up her hand and held it loosely, keeping himself in check. How easy it would be to sit on the sofa and pull her into his lap. “Shana, I know this has to be awkward for you.”
It had been so long since they’d shared that kind of ease.
“That’s an understatement.” Her eyes held his for a moment before she eased her hand away. She searched the room, her gaze never lingering long on any one spot. He followed her frenzied survey, taking in the bookshelves that arched high to the ceiling. Those shelves had been one of the things she’d loved most about this place, along with the greenhouse. He remembered how her face had lit up at the thought of a ladder leading to books wrapped around the room.
She showed no signs of remembrance on her face.
Giving her space—for now—he pushed to his feet. “I want you to know I’ll be sleeping in the guest room.”
“Thank you. I realize this is tough for you, too.”
“That’s an understatement.” He repeated her words, except for his own reasons. “But I know it’s far worse for you. I want you to take your time, take care of yourself, and the baby.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
He was walking a tightrope, needing to give her space, but working with a ticking time bomb that meant she could remember their past at any moment.
For now, though, there was peace.
Since she was settled, this would be a neutral time to check on work without worrying about her getting angry at him.
He slid behind the desk and fired up his laptop, watching Shana out of the corner of his eye.
She shifted on the sofa and hugged a throw pillow over her stomach where their child was nestled, growing. “What are you working on?”
“Clearing away paperwork so I’ll have more days off to spend with you.”
“I’m not an invalid. And my mother will be here for a week.” She tipped her head to the side. “Are you one of those guys who can’t stand his mother-in-law?”
He weighed his words carefully as the truth could be tricky on this one. Her mom—Louise—had never seemed to warm to him. But then, she didn’t trust many people. Life had left her overcautious.
“About four years ago your mother took a job in California.” Louise was a civilian employed nurse at a military installation. “Most of the time, you visited her rather than having her coming back here.”
“Hmm...” Shana seemed to digest the information, glancing around the library, her gaze lingering on the laptop and the stack of files. “I’m sorry to keep you from the office.”
The words felt like a blow.
They’d had so many arguments over him being a workaholic. He didn’t think of his work that way since he loved his job. He’d been groomed to take over for his parents once they retired, except retirement hadn’t come. His father had died. His mother had doubled down, working to numb her grief. Only recently had she stepped back, since she’d fallen for her business rival. But now they were merging the oil companies.
It was a dangerous time for Chuck to take personal leave, but he didn’t have much of a choice. His wife needed him, and he needed to win her back. For his own sake, and for the sake of their child.
Their family’s future depended on it.
He felt the weight of her gaze on him and looked up.
Shana closed her book and reached for the mug of hot cocoa. “What’s going on?”
“Why do you ask?” He clamshelled his laptop, looking directly at her.
She set aside her mug and hugged her knees to her chest. “You look worried. I hate that I’m putting more stress on you. I know this has to feel even more awkward for you than it does for me.”
He shook his head dismissively. “What makes you say that? You’re the one who’s lost five years.”
“But I’m not the one whose spouse doesn’t remember me. I know that has to hurt, and I’m so sorry.”
She hugged her knees tighter, eyes locking with his. The heat rose between them in an undeniable connection, building like the crackling fire.
“I’m focused on what’s best for you.”
“Then what’s got you so worried? I don’t have to be a private detective to read the tension in you.”
He creaked back in the office chair, deciding to share. “We’ve been struggling with data leaks for a while, trying to follow the trails in email exchanges.”
“A mole in the company?” She uncrossed her legs and pushed herself off the couch. As she moved through the white room, her hands lingered on stray books on the coffee table. She walked to the fireplace and picked up a heavy crystal photo frame off the mantel—a picture of the two of them from a romantic train getaway, from Anchorage to the Arctic Circle. He’d been trying to cheer her up after a failed in vitro attempt.
“Seems so. We hired a new employee who, as it turns out, had a vendetta against us and the Steeles.”
“What does the spy have to say?” She set the frame down and drew closer. Lithe as ever. Hot as hell. She sank back into the sofa, curling up.
“She’s disappeared somewhere in Canada.” He righted his chair, then stood and walked toward her.
“And you’ve hired private investigators.”
“Of course.” He sat on the sofa, close enough that her toes grazed his thigh and the scent of her perfume tempted him to bury his face in her neck and inhale deeper. He recalled well how she always preferred floral scents in perfume, shampoo, even essential oils, all carrying through her love of flowers.
As much as he hated the unanswered questions at work, he welcomed the ease of being with Shana this way, without the anger of the past year that had torn their marriage apart.
“What do the investigators have to say about the data trails from her email exchanges?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing at all?” She shook her head. “That’s strange.”
“And you think you could do better.”
“I surely couldn’t do any worse.”
He snorted on a laugh. “Fair enough. What are you proposing?”
“I don’t know how I used to spend my time while we were married, but I will go stir-crazy just sitting around. Let me do my part and take a stab at finding this woman.” She tapped his mouth before he could talk.
The feel of her fingers on him made him ache to clasp her wrist and pull her onto his lap. Seal his mouth to hers and lose themselves in the way they connected best.
But pushing too far, too fast would only harm his cause. So he simply took her arm and pressed a kiss to her palm before lowering her hand. Her throat moved in a long swallow that sent a surge of victory through him.
“So, Shana, how do you want to proceed?”
“Have the human resources department send me her application and any other information on her. I’ll start by digging around on the internet to see what I can find.”
He wanted to wrap her in a cocoon, keep her close to protect her. Shana was strong-willed, and her fire had attracted him to her from the first.
But her fire, her determination, also made things tough right now. If he wasn’t careful, she’d apply those investigative skills to their past.
Perhaps internet research would distract her from the amnesia, keep her from digging too deep into how things had been between them.
The last thing he wanted was for her to find out that on the day of her aneurysm, they’d decided to separate.
* * *
For the first time since waking up disoriented in the hospital room, Shana could finally breathe.
The warm shower sluicing down her back eased her tensed muscles. The stress came as much from her too-sexy husband as it did from any medical issues.
If only she could hide in the shower forever, just let the water wash away all tensions, all concerns. She would pretend for just a moment her life was simple and uncomplicated as the scent of her shampoo mingled with the aroma from the floral-scented candle she’d lit.
How could she have forgotten her marriage? Had the aneurysm wiped five years from her mind for life? Or was the loss stress-related, not coincidental that the memory loss started at the time she’d met her husband?
Trust was difficult enough for her under normal circumstances. She slid her hand over her stomach.
There was no room for error. The stakes were too high. And she needed to take care of her health, which included rest.
She turned off the shower and stepped out onto the heated floor. A sigh of pleasure slipped free. She definitely didn’t remember these, or any of the other luxuries from this life with Chuck Mega-Wealthy Mikkelson.
Except she was a Mikkelson now, too.
This was all too much to think about.
She should be relaxing. She tugged a towel free and dried off, then wrapped the fluffy cotton around her body. She squeezed water from her hair, making her way into the dressing area.
And slamming into a warm wall of hunky man.
Chuck.
Heat from the floor radiated up to send a flush of awareness through her body. Maybe it had been a bad idea moving in here with him as she waited for a cure for the amnesia. This kind of intimacy, the magnitude of their attraction, all of it so fast was...unsettling.
“Excuse me,” he said, clasping her shoulders, his broad hands launching a tingle of excitement through her breasts. “I was just coming in to get some clothes from our closet.”
Our closet.
She drew in a couple of steadying breaths. “I, uh...” Her mouth went dry. She clutched the towel in a fist between her breasts. She should step away.
Should.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
His thumbs moved along her collarbone. “I thought you were still downstairs in the kitchen.”
The touch scrambled her thoughts and stole her breath.
“I feel bad kicking you out of your bedroom,” she said, her eyes drawn to the vibrant green of his. “I can sleep in the guest room. It’s not like I’ll miss this space since I don’t remember it being mine.”
Theirs. Together.
Her gaze slid past him into the bedroom. How had they spent their time here before she’d become ill?
She looked up to the tray ceiling and toward the black fan. She felt disoriented, spinning and spinning, like the blades circulating heated air. She wondered if she’d ever stop circling around this awareness, this nagging feeling at the back of her mind.
She hated how she looked at the plush bed, with its overstuffed white pillows pressed against a headboard that practically went to the ceiling, and remembered...nothing.
This place felt foreign.
Even the pieces of her life that she recognized—like the antique perfume bottle from her grandmother on the mirrored bedside table—felt out of place. Familiar but not enough to comfort her.
She realized Chuck hadn’t responded. His eyes had been tracking hers as she struggled to deal with this attraction to a man she barely knew.
“I feel bad that things are so awkward between us,” she said.
“There’s no instruction manual for how to deal with this.”
She closed her eyes. Breathed in a hint of his aftershave, which sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the chilly day. She opened her eyes. “I’ve turned your life upside down.”
“More like you’re turning me inside out in that towel.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Heat stung her face.
“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault.” His hands slid down her arms and then away from her body as he stepped back. “Good night, beautiful. Sleep well.”
After the way his touch had felt?
Doubtful her night would be at all restful.
* * *
Chuck stretched back into the stiff off-white chair. He blinked his eyes clear, gearing up for another late night in his home office. The yellow light from the desk lamp dully illuminated the study.
He stacked Shana’s things on the desk, putting her paperwork off to the left side, adjacent to the floral arrangements she’d picked out only four days ago.
Might as well have been in another lifetime.
The prospect of divorce rattled him.
Mikkelsons didn’t fail.
He’d been unable to sleep after walking in on Shana coming out of the shower. Only a couple of days ago they’d been at each other’s throats. Now, desire lit up the room every time they were near.
But he saw the wariness in her eyes. And truth be told, he wasn’t interested in launching himself into the emotional shredder with her. He needed to save their marriage, but he also needed to keep things lighter between them. Surely they could enjoy the chemistry they shared and get back on an even footing in their relationship. Eventually, if this pregnancy came to term, they could also bring up their child.
Chuck shook his head, needing to focus. And not on Shana for the moment. For now, he needed to pay attention to the numbers on the chart in front of him and prepare for his late-night meeting.
He highlighted a few lines and scribbled thoughts off to the side. His messy handwriting populated the second page of the document. His eyes slid from the chart to his watch. 11:30 p.m.
Sure, it was an unconventional meeting time. But everything lately seemed mighty damn unconventional. He fired up his laptop and turned on another light in the office. He looked around at the space—his shared space with Shana—and could see all the memories. How she’d arranged the bookshelf first by genre, then by author. She loved reading. And he’d been happy to help her locate the perfect ladder, the perfect carpenter for the recessed bookshelves, the perfect table desk. A lifetime ago.
A lifetime he might have another shot at.
The ding of Broderick’s conference call interrupted Chuck. Right. Business. Broderick’s uncle Conrad was a night owl, too, so the late time didn’t faze him, either. As for Chuck, he welcomed the chance to throw himself into work for a while, no matter the time. Broderick had set the time for after his daughter was asleep.
The video feed lurched to life, pixels turning smooth. Conrad and Broderick sat in the conference room at the Alaska Oil Barons, Inc., office, clean-cut and ready.
No Jack Steele this go-around. Just his second-in-command, Broderick, Jack’s eldest son. And Jack’s brother Conrad stepping in to consult.
Conrad Steele leaned forward, deep blue eyes a stark contrast to his thick salt-and-pepper hair. In his deadpan way, no emotions entering his expression, Conrad asked, “How’re things with Shana?”
“Still no recollection of the past. But we’re settling into a new routine.” One full of desire that left Chuck aching. He wouldn’t mention that. “I appreciate your accommodating my working from home.”
Broderick nodded, brow tense as he leaned forward, too, setting a pen down on the dark wood conference table. “If you need time off, just say the word.”
Chuck barked a laugh. Time off was the furthest thing from his mind. “Last time I took a month for personal reasons, my brother threatened to break my legs.”
Conrad smiled tightly. “Trystan handled himself well with the press and at the fund-raiser.”
Trystan was the younger Mikkelson brother, who had been adopted by Jeannie and her first husband after his mother, Jeannie’s sister, had become addicted to drugs. He was as much a part of the family as all the other Mikkelson siblings.
“Other than punching the paparazzi.” Broderick shot his uncle a look.
The older man shrugged. “Some would say the situation warranted a fist to the face.”
Grinning, Chuck said, “And some would say you’re siding with my brother to cause trouble.”
Conrad steepled his fingers along his nose. “Trust between our families isn’t going to happen in a day.”
Hell yeah on that point. “Especially when people like Milla Jones are throwing around accusations about my family.”
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Catherine Mann
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: She can’t remember the last five years…Chuck Mikkelson knows Shana doesn’t remember him…or that she wanted a divorce. But now she’s back in his home, and he vows to save their union at all costs. Will their rekindled passion be enough to convince her to stay when her memory returns?