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Stranger In His Bed
Lauren Canan


She felt no hesitation. She was his.Victoria Masters remembers nothing after the accident that stole her past.Now she’s living in a billionaire’s palatial home and finding the sensual stranger impossible to resist. But why is Wade’s holding back?







She felt no hesitation... She was his.

“I’m your husband.”

Victoria Masters remembers nothing after the accident that stole her past, not even her name. Now she’s living in a billionaire rancher’s palatial home and finding this sensual stranger impossible to resist. He says he’s her husband, but why does she get the sense he’s holding back? As powerful desire leads her into Wade’s bed, a surprise she’ll never forget is in store...


When LAUREN CANAN began writing, stories of romance and unbridled passion flowed through her fingers onto the page. Today she is a multi-award-winning author, including the prestigious Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award. She lives in Texas with her own real-life hero, two crazy dogs and a mouthy parrot named Bird. Find her on Facebook or visit her website, laurencanan.com (http://www.laurencanan.com).


Also by Lauren Canan (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)

Terms of a Texas Marriage

Lone Star Baby Bombshell

Redeeming the Billionaire SEAL

One Night with the Texan

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Stranger in His Bed

Lauren Canan






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


ISBN: 978-1-474-07674-6

STRANGER IN HIS BED

© 2018 Sarah Cannon

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)


This book is dedicated to Terry:

the one who keeps me going. I couldn’t write

without your inspiration and encouragement.

And to Kathy Douglass,

the best critique partner you could ever hope for.

Thank you for all you’ve done for me!

And many thanks to my editor,

Charles Griemsman. Bless you for your brilliant

guidance and for having the patience of a saint.


Contents

Cover (#uac0e5369-e028-5225-92fe-ced16d2a05b6)

Back Cover Text (#u235f5cd0-59d4-54ef-b5b6-cc4ae160aa06)

About the Author (#u6714ff34-4032-5cef-bd31-19df28e5e17a)

Booklist (#ua32bded8-ef75-5fae-b3a0-65c12a58f337)

Title Page (#u45b7dc63-0f87-5044-9aa0-cee865fbffa2)

Copyright (#u76bf345c-d11b-569f-ae0f-8b54d1379360)

Dedication (#u5bbb266a-fc89-503c-80f7-0f1ad2ef476c)

One (#u2dfe1aea-5c64-5042-b99b-ad6ad72297f8)

Two (#u805c29bf-8001-5b3c-8fdc-fb40ae3189ea)

Three (#uae1a6cf5-9793-5227-bbdc-9237a5989fa2)

Four (#ud75de56f-ac5b-59b0-9a96-0ae7b62f7620)

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)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)

“I think she’s awake.”

As her vision cleared, the most beautiful pair of eyes she’d ever seen came into focus. They were a vibrant brown with so many flecks of gold they appeared to gleam. Framed by dark lashes, they were strong, compelling, and she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to look away. It was as though they offered a lifeline and she desperately held on.

Her gaze widened to take in the rest of this man’s face. The sharp angles and high cheekbones. The full, sensuous lips, drawn into a straight line, surrounded by a dark bearded shadow. His thick, tobacco-brown hair gleamed golden where the fluorescent lights touched it.

A second man in a white lab coat stepped into her field of vision on the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m Dr. Meadows, your neurologist.” He spoke softly, clearly. Something she was grateful for.

The glaring white lights overhead burned with the same intensity as the sun. The pounding in her head became more pronounced, almost overwhelming, throbbing in time with her heartbeat.

“You were involved in an automobile accident two days ago. You had some injuries. Most were minor, but you did sustain a fairly bad concussion.”

The doctor withdrew a pencil-sized flashlight from the pocket of his lab coat and pointed the light quickly into one eye, then the other. She couldn’t help flinching as the beam touched her eyes. He returned the light to his pocket and flipped open a chart. After sifting through an array of pastel-colored pages, he made a notation on one of them before closing the folder.

“Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m... My name is...” She drew a blank. How can I not know my own name? How is it possible? Confusion added to her pain. “I don’t know,” she whispered almost to herself. A feeling of panic slowly crept in.

“Do you know who that man is?” The doctor nodded toward the stranger.

Once again she took in his features, the solemn face that was so full of character, the deep jaw and those eyes, so mesmerizing. But nothing about him was at all familiar.

“No.” She slowly rolled her head against the pillow. “Should I?”

“I’m Wade,” the man said, his deep voice conveying strength. “Wade Masters. I’m your husband.”

Husband? She was married? The stunned disbelief must have shown in her eyes, because Wade Masters’s expression turned into a frown of serious contemplation, and his eyes snapped across to the doctor. No. That couldn’t be right. Could it? She raised a hand to her forehead. Frantically she searched her mind for any memory of a wedding. Of him. Of them. Of their life together.

Nothing.

“I don’t know you.” She heard the emotional quiver in her own voice. “I’m not married. How can you say that?”

Alarm set in, adding to the pounding in her head. This was all wrong. They had the wrong person. They thought she was someone else. She had to get up. She had to leave. She had to go home. Grabbing the railing at the side of the bed, she tried to pull herself into a sitting position. Hands immediately pushed her gently back down onto the pillow. “No. Please. I need to go home. I need to call...” Who? Who was she going to call? She couldn’t think. Her head hurt. Everything hurt, and she had no memory of the person she was or the life she had known.

She heard the doctor call for a nurse. “Try to relax, Mrs. Masters,” he said. “You’re going to be fine. Your home is waiting when you regain your strength. You took a pretty hard knock on the head. Try not to worry if you can’t remember people or names, including your own. With this type of injury, retrograde amnesia is not at all uncommon. I’m confident everything will come back to you in time.”

“When?” She felt a tear slip down the side of her face. “When will it come back?”

“Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing how any one individual will react. Occasionally a memory may come to you as a kind of flashback. Then you may start to remember everything all at once, or it may come back in small fragments, like random pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It could return tomorrow or months from now.”

Months? No. She had to remember. There was something important she had to do. People were counting on her. She sensed a need to hurry. But the more she tried to recall the circumstances, the harder the hammer slammed into her head.

“Your tests have come back and everything is looking very good.” The neurologist continued flipping through forms in her chart. “The cerebral swelling is all but gone. Your heart sounds good. Blood pressure is within a normal range. If no other concerns surface, we can talk about sending you home tomorrow.” He looked from the chart directly to her.

A nurse bustled in. She injected medication into the intravenous tubing. “This should take effect in just a few minutes. I’ll be back to check on you, sweetie.” She nodded at the two men and left the room as quickly as she’d come in.

As I mentioned to your husband,” the doctor said, “there is a good chance being in familiar surroundings will stimulate the return of your memory.”

Her husband. She returned her gaze to the tall man with broad shoulders who stood to her left, watching her in silent consideration. He was dressed in a dark business suit, his blue-and-gold-striped tie loosened at the neck, the top button of his white dress shirt undone. Her gaze fell on his hands, which were resting on the metal bar of the bed. They looked strong and capable. A gold wedding band gleamed on the third finger of his left hand.

She swallowed back the fear that something was terribly wrong.

“We will get through this. You’re going to be okay.” The man leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. His hand covered her own, and the warmth felt good. His voice was as deep and seductive as his eyes were mesmerizing. “If there is anything you need...”

“Please tell me who I am.”

“Your name is Victoria. Victoria Masters.”

The man stood up straight, appearing relaxed and self-assured, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. She realized her initial impression that he was attractive had been an understatement.

He was devastatingly attractive.

She could smell his rich, enticing cologne. His white shirt set off his tan skin. The sharp lines of his face and the straight, proud nose were indicative of good breeding. His hair with its slight wave hung just past his collar and shadowed his forehead. The golden intensity of his eyes and the lack of a smile on those full, sensuous lips brought it all together: Wade Masters was the personification of danger. Not dangerous like a criminal, but dangerous like a man who was capable of stirring a woman’s passion with little to no effort. And he knew it. It was part of that confidence he emitted.

And he was here to take her home.

With his gaze trained on her, she felt a heated blush rush up her neck and over her face. The barest hint of a smile touched his lips as though he knew what she was thinking. She looked away, swallowing hard.

The doctor interrupted her thoughts. “Right now, I don’t want you to worry about memory recall. Try to relax and give it some time.”

She felt the drug the nurse had given start to take effect and her eyelids grew heavy. She fought to keep them open, wanting to know more about the man who claimed to be her husband.

Dr. Meadows turned toward him. “I want to see her in two weeks. Have someone contact my office and set up an appointment. If she develops any dizziness, vomiting or severe headaches, bring her back to the ER immediately.” He looked at his patient. “Bed rest for a day, then you can move around, but go slowly. No hundred-meter hurdles for at least a week.” He winked at her, then smiled.

“Okay.” She couldn’t help but return his smile.

“You folks have a good day.” He handed Wade his card. “If you should have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thank you, Dr. Meadows,” she said as the good doctor disappeared out the door and down the hall. Her gaze returned to the other man. She felt a wave of anxiety shimmy down her spine. She was alone with this person, this man who claimed to be her husband. She still didn’t recognize anything about him. There was nothing in his voice or the way he moved that was remotely familiar. For all his sex appeal, he seemed cold, unfeeling. Would she have married a man like that? Apparently so. Surely there was something about him or about their situation that would register?

There were so many questions she wanted to ask. She felt as though she was standing on the edge of a precipice, about to plunge down into the dark depths of the unknown. Could she do this? Evidently there was only one way to find out.

He had not made any other move to touch her. No hug. No kiss—even on the cheek. In fact, she’d received more compassion from the doctor and nurse than from the man who said he was her husband. Maybe he was just holding back because he knew she had no recollection of him? If that was the case, she appreciated his thoughtfulness. If not, they obviously had a major problem within their marriage and one she could do nothing about until her memory returned. She hoped, yet again, that would happen soon. In the meantime, she had to speculate about what would be asked of her. What would her husband expect?

The pain in her head and body began to fade, and before she could ask another question, she returned to the comfort of oblivion.

* * *

Wade Masters stood motionless as he watched Victoria fall back to sleep. She’d been monitored closely for the swelling in her brain and tested often to ensure no veins in her head ruptured from the building pressure. Today, when he’d received the call that she seemed to be regaining consciousness, he’d come to the hospital immediately. This, after having to cut short a business trip to London when he’d first heard of the accident.

He hadn’t been prepared for the news of her amnesia. Or the fear he’d seen in her eyes, the way her gaze had held his as though his strength was the only thing holding her together. She’d looked at him with desperation and a silent cry for help, and he’d not been able to stop himself from wanting to make everything better. It had to be tough to wake up in a hospital and not remember your own name or what happened to put you there.

He was equally surprised the snobbishness she normally wore like a shield was gone. She tended to walk a fine line between arrogant and outright rude. But instead of demanding answers from the doctor, she’d asked questions with true concern and a hint of anguish in her voice. Still, she might not have the strength to be demanding. Perhaps it was all the pain and medication. Whatever the cause, something had changed. It was more than the cracked ribs and head injury. He had come here anticipating the worst, expecting he would have to deal with her demanding behavior. Instead, he encountered a woman who was frightened and wasn’t afraid to let that anxiety show.

And the way she appeared now, without a half ton of makeup covering her face and her hair in disarray, she looked amenable and, in a strange way, actually more attractive than usual. Despite the bruising from the accident, she was a very beautiful woman.

But she was fastidious about the way she looked. The hospital staff had better keep any mirrors well away from her until she healed or be prepared to bear her wrath and interminable temper. They all had better relish this peaceful time. The true Victoria would be back soon enough.

It was too bad, because she had so much to offer. If only she would get a grip, stop being so superficial and entitled, and set goals for her future.

With one last glance at the woman sleeping in the bed, he grabbed his briefcase from the chair and walked out into the corridor. As he approached the row of elevators, his mind was spinning. He had to get a handle on how to deal with this. Maybe Dave Renner, his attorney, could shed some light on what the hell he should do now. The documents to end this sham marriage had been prepared and were awaiting Victoria’s signature. They had both agreed to a settlement offer. In a matter of days he would have been free of her and all the baggage that came with her, including the outrageously snooty and often flamboyant behavior.

He would have been free of this woman who was his wife in name only.

His jaw clenched in frustration. He knew there was no easy answer. In fact, there was only one answer. Take her home when she was released and care for her until she completely recovered. He shook his head at the unbelievable twist of fate.

Wade was glad Victoria would eventually be okay. He certainly wished her no ill will. He’d had his secretary clear his calendar for the next few weeks so he could remain close until she was better. Anything she needed would be provided. But he couldn’t help but speculate if she would keep the amnesia thing going even if her memory returned. Her ability to maintain a lie was one of her best attributes. It was why he’d chosen her.

He pressed the elevator call button, still grinding his teeth. Their arrangement had been intended to benefit them both, giving her a much-sought entry into Dallas’s inner circles and providing him with the facade of being a settled family man, which worked to his advantage in business negotiations. It had also been intended to eliminate unwanted emotions and potential complications found in a real marriage, something he had neither the time nor the patience to deal with. Those complications had been replaced by new ones, but at least it had provided him the freedom to come and go as he deemed necessary, and of late go seemed the option that worked best. The less time he spent in her company, the better.

Eight months after signing the agreement that bound him to her as her husband, she’d begun to be seen with various men out in public, often making the gossip columns, effectively negating the very purpose for which he’d needed her, causing all the carefully staged efforts to blow up in his face. After she’d ignored repeated requests for discretion, her actions had continued, albeit on a lesser scale, but enough that he was still not happy, especially when it had begun to negatively affect his business dealings and made him appear the fool, which he would not permit. Victoria had scoffed and asked him if he really expected her to live like a nun. He’d assured her that was not his intention. What he did demand was discretion. He’d reminded her of her desire for social esteem and warned she was about to lose all she’d set out to achieve. She’d ignored him, deciding to call his bluff. Other measures had to be taken. He had thought she was intelligent enough to know he would not allow this to go on, and she had pushed him as far as he would tolerate. The bottom line: she was an employee paid to act the part of his wife, and had been compensated very well for that effort. In addition, if she had lived up to the terms, she would have received a million-dollar settlement at the end of a year. Now less than a week away from being free of her, she’d had this accident.

He drew in a breath and blew it out as the doors to the elevator opened. He was stuck with an impetuous, ill-tempered wife in name only, who would most likely milk this amnesia thing for all it was worth. He fought to control his temper.

He needed to call his brothers Cole and Chance, who resided in Calico Springs on the Masters family compound. He hadn’t spoken to either of them since his flight had landed. He supposed he should call Victoria’s mother, too, to tell her she’d be out of the hospital soon. But all Corrine was really worried about was herself and ensuring her rank at the top of the social food chain lasted a while longer. And really, wasn’t that all that mattered? He scoffed at the woman’s preposterous behavior. If one of his brothers had been injured, he would not have stayed home and requested a daily update. He would be there at the hospital, not waiting for a phone call. His brothers would do the same. They showed up for each other. He almost felt sorry for Victoria. After being raised by that woman, it was no wonder she acted the way she did.

Bracing himself, he speed-dialed Corinne’s number and headed for the side entrance door of the hospital, where his car and driver waited.


Two (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)

As the doctor had promised, a nurse arrived at her room with a wheelchair the next afternoon. Victoria had requested that the flowers she’d received be given to other patients who might not have family. She didn’t recognize the names on any of the cards anyway. Her clothing had been discarded when she had been first brought into the ER. Her husband had arranged for some loungewear to be delivered.

They headed toward the front entrance, the nurse pushing the wheelchair, Wade following. As they cleared the automatic glass doors to the outside, she embraced the warm afternoon air and the sounds of normal life all around her. It was summer, the trees were green and plants in full bloom, the colors so bold it was hard to take it all in.

What had she been doing before the accident? Where had she been going when she was hit? She turned her gaze from the flowers to focus on where they were headed now. Directly in front of her was a champagne-colored stretch limo waiting in the circular drive.

“Oh, my gosh,” she uttered in complete surprise when two men stepped out. A driver and a bodyguard? One came around the car to open the rear passenger door for her. She looked up at her husband. “Is this yours?”

“It is.”

“Seriously? I don’t think I’ve ever been in a limo before. Maybe at a funeral...”

Wade smiled. “Actually, you have ridden in a limousine many times, but, since you don’t remember, let’s hope you enjoy this ride like it’s your first. And we will certainly steer clear of any cemeteries.”

He placed his hand under her arm and gently helped her stand and take three steps to the limo. Once inside, she leaned back against the rich leather seat and inhaled the new-car scent. Closing the door, Wade walked to the other side and got in next to her. Seconds later, they were off.

The scent of his cologne, distinctly masculine with hints of spices and sandalwood, blended with the rich smell of the leather upholstery. It was a heady aroma.

“Do you need the temperature adjusted?” he asked. “Are you comfortable?”

“I’m fine. It feels strange to be outside again. Good. But strange.”

He nodded as though he understood.

“We’re near Dallas, aren’t we?”

“Yes. You remember Dallas?”

She pointed at the window to his left. “I recognize the skyline.”

He nodded.

“How long have we known each other? Where did we meet?”

He seemed to hesitate, looking out the window before turning to face her. “We met at a party. Several years ago.”

She again let her eyes fall on this man who was positively dripping in sex appeal. It seemed too much to accept he was her husband. He fell into the category of something too good to be true. And didn’t that usually turn out to be right? But she would run with it while it lasted. Until her memory returned, there was little else she could do.

“Let me guess,” she said with a smile. “You saw me from across the room and couldn’t take your eyes off me. It was love at first sight, right?”

He appeared amused. Amused was good. Better than the deadpan stare that was all she’d seen so far.

“You made...an unforgettable impression. As you are now.”

That shot the nurse had given her this morning must have been the cause of her runaway mouth. She wanted to giggle for no apparent reason. But maybe that was normal in her circumstances? She took a deep breath and tried for sincerity.

“How long have we been married?”

“Almost eight months.”

“Practically newlyweds. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember you.”

“Possibly, but not likely.”

She had to agree. Short of an injury like hers, how could she ever forget loving and being loved by a man like Wade Masters? “What do you do? Like, for a living?”

“I have a business. Actually, it’s a family business.”

“Let me guess.” She gave a tiny snort. “You make pizza, and this is the delivery van?”

Again those eyebrows shot up, and the tiny smile returned.

“Close. Avionics, electronics, ranching, Masco Laboratories... I’m sure there must be a Domino’s Pizza in there somewhere.” The gleam was back in his eyes as he tilted his head. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes. No. Depends on what you’ve got.”

Again he turned toward her, giving her a look of surprise. She hadn’t meant it the way he might have taken it, but she couldn’t stop the blush that crawled up her neck. She was hungry, all right. Hungry for knowledge; starving for memories, good or bad. And if he didn’t curb that sexy hint of a smile, she would be well on her way to hungry for him. Who was this guy? How in the hell had she met and married a man like Wade Masters? It didn’t feel right. But at the moment it didn’t feel all that wrong.

“There will be a wide selection when we arrive at the house. You can eat at your leisure.” His voice rolled over her, deep and solemn as he readjusted in his seat. “I’m certain we can meet any needs you might have.”

“Anything?”

He smiled a wide, unpretentious smile. “I’m fairly certain we can keep you well satisfied.”

What needs would she have? More important, what needs would he have, and what expectations would he have of her? She could see him pulling her into his arms and carrying her to a large bed in a master suite for a night of... Oh, God. Moaning softly, she closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. What was it about this guy that made her thoughts run straight to the gutter? One quick sideways glance and she saw him smirking. Did he read minds? At least he had a sense of humor. While she couldn’t explain it, she couldn’t see herself marrying someone who didn’t. That was the most important thing. It was what got you through everything else in life.

Gathering herself, she raised her chin and straightened her shoulders. “Do I have any brothers or sisters?” A safe topic.

“No. As far as I know, only your mother and father.” He pulled a cell from his inner suit pocket, glanced at the screen, then put it back. “I have spoken to Corinne daily since the accident. I’m sure she would like to hear your voice. You might want to give her a call.”

“Corinne? Is that my mother’s name?”

“It is.”

“Sounds like some sort of bleach.”

Wade ran a hand over his mouth and jaw as though he didn’t know what to make of that one.

A mother. And a father. Add two more people to the list of folks she just didn’t remember.

A memory suddenly surged through her mind accompanied by dull pain. She was standing just outside the front door of a redbrick house, a blonde woman hugging her. They were both crying. But it didn’t feel like it was her mother.

This memory loss was absolutely the worst thing she’d ever been through. At least that she could remember. The other injuries from the collision took a back seat by comparison.

The rest of the drive passed in quiet contemplation. Who was Wade Masters? Where were they going? She didn’t sense anything sinister about him except maybe a wicked sense of humor. In spite of him being well above normal in the looks department, he was well mannered and courteous, not snobbish, at least not that she’d picked up on. Granted, she’d seen him only two times—that she could recall—but, while he was apparently wealthy, he didn’t give the impression he held himself in higher esteem than anyone else. Neither did he seem like a happily married man. She would have expected him to hold her, kiss her or give reassurances. Something. But he remained aloof. Polite to a fault, but distant.

Eventually the limo turned into a driveway, coming to a stop in front of tall black wrought-iron gates. They opened immediately and the car proceeded up the hill and to the right where a circular drive dipped under a high portico. She had a strong suspicion it was the largest house she’d ever seen. A mansion complete with turrets that made it look more like a castle than a house.

“Is this where you live?” The sheer colossal size of it required confirmation.

He nodded as the driver opened his door. “This is where we live.”

She leaned toward the window and glanced up at the top of one of the towers, then back to her husband. “I guess the ghosts don’t come out until night.”

He looked at her with surprise. One eyebrow lifted higher than the other, and then he once again pursed his lips as though hiding a smile. “I guarantee it. And if you become frightened, I’ll be close by.”

She didn’t think she was a negative person, but if the good doctor hoped coming to live in this place was going to stir any memories, he was sadly mistaken. She might not remember a ride in a limo, but no way would she forget living in a castle.

Yet apparently that was exactly what she’d done.

Her door opened, and a man held out his hand to help her out of the car and into a waiting wheelchair. “Welcome home, madam,” the man said and attempted a smile. Two other men, clearly security, waited on either side of the front door.

The ground floor of the mansion, at least what she could see en route to the elevator, was amazing. Pure elegance even a visiting royal would appreciate. They wheeled through the marble and glass foyer, then slipped by the huge living room to the right and a dining room that could easily seat four dozen people on the left. Beyond was the kitchen. She smiled and waved at the staff who had come out to welcome her home. They looked at each other in surprise. One hesitantly waved back. Before she could ponder that odd reaction, she, Wade and the attendant who pushed her wheelchair were inside of a small elevator, and for the first time, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored walls.

There were few words that could describe the reflected image. Horrible was one. Appalling was another. It was so not her. Her hair hung in long, limp tendrils. Her face was still pretty banged up, although the bruises were fading to a relatively nondescript yellow. Her left eye was bloodshot, and she could see a slight, almost healed cut on her bottom lip. The swelling was going down. She patted her face. Overall, she looked like she’d been in one whale of a fight and had not been on the winning side.

There was a soft ding, and the doors opened onto a wide corridor, the floor inlaid with beautiful white and gold-embossed marble tiles. The attendant wheeled the chair to the right and followed the hallway almost to the end, finally turning into a large bedroom. It was done in pastels, primarily in varying shades of green. Very nice. Very soothing. Very bland.

“Does this suite suit your needs?” Wade asked from the open doorway.

“Yes. It’s great,” she replied. “It’s...big.” The spacious room had a separate sitting area on the far end, with comfy-looking chairs surrounding a fireplace. French doors opened onto a huge terrace. There was even a bar with a small fridge. A luxurious bed with silk wrappings completed the effect.

“Do...you...stay in here as well?”

He watched her almost as though he was measuring the question, and she thought she saw a spark of devious temptation flash in his eyes. “No. My suite is next door.”

A feeling of relief rolled through her. At the same time, it struck her as odd that a newly wedded couple would have separate bedrooms. More than likely he was letting her have her own room, thus giving her space and time to readjust rather than push her to move directly into the master suite. And she was grateful. She wasn’t ready to share a bed with a strange man despite her attraction. And regardless of any marriage certificate that might say otherwise, he was a stranger.

Standing up from the wheelchair, she walked around the room, looking at the paintings and art objects decorating the space. Most of the paintings were by renowned artists, some of which she recognized. There were pictures of flower gardens and old ivy-covered stone walls and gates.

“Either you or your designer has very good taste.”

“You know art?”

She shrugged. “I recognize Monet and Barber. And I guess I know what I like.”

“Do you?”

She pivoted around to face him. Her heart skipped a beat at the look of sensuous suggestion on his face, in his voice. She had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about fine art. Was he flirting with her? Establishing his claim? Or had her imagination overtaken her common sense? Still...he was her husband. Maybe he was reminding her of that fact.

Not sure how to respond, she turned to look at the painting hanging over the mantel. A little girl with long reddish-blond curls stood in the corner of her room, presumably being punished for something she’d done. Her dog, a little brown terrier, stood guard against anyone who would come near his child. A name flashed through her mind. Murphy. She turned to Wade. “Is...Murphy here?”

A sharp frown met her question. “Who?”

“Murphy.”

The gracious warmth of his welcome instantly turned to icy cold foreboding. “There is no one named Murphy in this house.”

His clipped reply indicated she’d struck a nerve. But why? Who was Murphy? Why did she remember that name when there was no face to go with it?

“I have work I need to take care of. Henry, our chef, put a menu next to the phone. I have taken the liberty of arranging your first meal based on the foods you generally like. If it isn’t acceptable to you, feel free to order something else. Call the number on the bottom of the menu once you’ve made your selection.”

“That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”

“Your mother’s phone number is on your bedside table in case you don’t remember it.” With a sharp nod, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

What was that all about? She had no idea why simply asking about a name would cause such a change in behavior. His sudden hostility caused regret to surge through her. Apparently there was someone named Murphy who stood between them. It wasn’t a good feeling. How could she remember that name and not remember her own husband? A numbing chill slid over her. Was another man the reason Wade had acted so distant?

A soft knock on her door brought her out of her worried contemplation.

“Yes? Come in.”

The door opened to a stout young woman in a nondescript black dress and shoes.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Masters? I’m not sure if you will remember me. I am Rowena. Roe. Mr. Masters asked me to assist you with anything you need.”

“Oh. That’s very thoughtful. Thank you, but I’m fine.”

The maid hesitated before saying, “I hope you feel better very soon.” Then she backed out of the door.

“Roe?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I think... Could I change my mind? Would you mind helping me draw a bath?”

“Yes, of course, ma’am. I’d be happy to.” She hurried past Victoria and disappeared into the bathroom.

Victoria ventured into the huge closet while Roe started the bath. It was lined with clothing for every occasion. Many garments still had the price tag attached; others were still in the designer’s bag. Shoes filled one wall, and in the built-in bureau, there was lingerie in every style and color.

She was a clothes hog. It looked like she’d bought more clothing than she would need in a year. Maybe two.

“Your bath is ready, Mrs. Masters.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at Roe. “You’re very kind.”

That earned her a surprised, wide-eyed stare from the housekeeper. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Grabbing a robe, she ventured toward the elegant powder room, then on to the beautiful marbled bathroom. The oversize jetted tub couldn’t have been more appealing if it had been edged in twenty-four-carat gold. Across the room, a glass shower large enough to hold five looked equally tempting. But right now, she wanted to soak away the hospital smell. The dull ache in her head persisted, but hopefully the warm water would take care of it. Soon she was lying back, eyes closed, as the hot jets of water massaged away the soreness from her bruised body. She grabbed the liquid soap she’d selected from a wide array of bath salts, soaps and shampoos in a cabinet. Soon she was inhaling the wonderful exotic scent and enjoying the sense of cleanliness it offered.

When her fingers began to get pruny, she knew it was time to get out. After toweling dry, she slipped on the fluffy white robe. She found both a comb and a brush, plus a new toothbrush and some toothpaste in one of the drawers. Standing in front of the large mirror, she combed the tangles from her long dark hair.

As she looked at her reflection, a feeling of unease passed through her. Something was off. It was probably just the bruises and cut lip. She turned her face to the side. Maybe some swelling remained. “Stop it!” she muttered to her reflection. She had enough to worry about without adding to it.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Masters?” Roe called from the bedroom.

Excellent question. Placing the comb back in the drawer, Victoria headed to the bedroom. With the succulent smell of the food being wheeled into the room, she let the internal quandary go for now.

As good as the food looked and tasted, she did little more than sample a couple of the dishes. Her appetite had disappeared along with any positive hopes that coming here—coming home—would rekindle her memory. So far, all it had served to do was add more unknowns to the growing list. She felt tired and melancholy. Her husband’s earlier reaction to her inquiry about the name stirred apprehension. Everything she thought she would find here was still missing. In fact, she had an overwhelming sensation that she didn’t belong here. In this house. She couldn’t explain it, but the feeling was strong.

After the food cart had been removed, she found a clean nightgown, pulled back the covers and sat down on the bed. She really should call her mother. Even though she didn’t remember her.

Finding the number written on a sticky note, she placed the call.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

“Hi, Mom. Mother.” What did she call her? “It’s me, Victoria.” There was an obvious pause on the other end.

“Oh, my dear. You don’t sound at all like yourself. Are you still in the hospital?”

“No. No, I’m at home.”

Another pause. “Are you telling me that man dumped you off at his house and left? That might be a cause of action for abandonment or mental distress. You really should speak with Burt as soon as possible.”

What was she talking about? “Uh...Wade has been with me the entire time. He’s still here.”

“Oh. Well, we will just have to think of something else. Sooner or later Wade Masters will screw up and he’ll pay for it dearly, if you get my drift. If you can find a private moment, it wouldn’t hurt to call Burt anyway. Maybe he can think of another angle.”

An angle? For what? “Who’s Burt?”

“Why, your attorney. How could you not remember him? Do you really have amnesia? Wade said you couldn’t remember anything. You’re making me nervous, Victoria. You need to get over this memory thing before you say or do something that Wade will use to boot you out the door. Call Burt’s office. He needs the information on the driver who hit you, his insurance and such. Look, sweetheart, I really must go. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Uh...okay.” And before Victoria could make sense of any part of the conversation, the line went dead. How odd. Not once had her mother inquired as to how she was feeling. And all that about calling an attorney. What was that? She had no info about the accident and had assumed Wade would take care of it.

She hung up and eased into bed. It felt good to lie down. The silk sheets were amazing, the mattress and pillows so soft, especially compared to the bed at the hospital. Her vision again fell on the painting above the mantel. What was it about the painting that called to her? Surely Wade would know. But was it somehow related to what had caused his hostile reaction earlier?

She still had the dull throbbing in her head, though it wasn’t bad enough to get up and take one of the pills Dr. Meadows had prescribed. She didn’t know if it was caused by the accident, being in this strange unwelcoming monstrosity of a house, or Wade’s show of anger and the anxiety she’d felt at his reaction. But neither the bath nor putting some food in her stomach had eased the pain totally. Maybe when she woke up everything would be back to normal.

Whatever normal was.


Three (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)

Wadding another piece of printer paper into a tight ball, Wade tossed it against the far wall with the idea of bouncing it into the trash can below. There were significantly more small white balls on the floor than in the basket. He didn’t care.

She could bloody well remember the name of one of her lovers but not her husband? That was a hell of a thing to admit. His irrational irritation continued to mount as he sat at his desk, trying to drum up sufficient enthusiasm to concentrate on the work in front of him.

Of course, she wasn’t really his wife in the biblical sense. And considering their history, he really shouldn’t be surprised or affected either way. But she had drawn him in with the sweet, innocent act, then waylaid him when he wasn’t expecting it. One minute she seemed so innocuous...so...not Victoria. Those lilac-blue eyes—which had never seemed so blue—radiated such warmth, need and an almost childlike innocence. She’d silently implored him to help her. Then in the blink of an eye she was dredging up memories of some man. It was Victoria at her best. He snatched another sheet of paper from the printer tray. If ex-lovers were what it took to help her memory return, they definitely had a problem. He didn’t know all their names, and he didn’t care. But they were not going to visit her here. Just the thought of it had him again gritting his teeth. Another ball sailed through the air. Another miss.

He ran a hand over his mouth, sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. This entire situation had begun as one of those Why didn’t I think of this before? ridiculously brilliant ideas. Or so it had seemed at the time. Victoria’s father had given her a taste of high society before he lost everything by making foolish moves in commodities trading. Even when she had been poor as a church mouse, she had continued to maintain the facade of wealth and privilege, which was exactly what Wade had needed: a beautiful woman who knew how to dress and function skillfully at social gatherings, and who epitomized a billionaire’s wife. In that regard, Victoria was exceptional. She could even do happy if he pressed her on it. What she couldn’t do was discretion. He’d soon discovered Victoria didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Wade had long ago stopped longing for a wife, someone he could love, trust and raise a family with. Twice he’d fallen for a woman who had seemed so sincere, so earnest, only to learn it was all a ploy to gain money. After the last time, he’d called an end to it all. Bitter and discouraged, he refused to again put his heart on the chopping block.

Now, because of the accident, it was as though Victoria had a complete change of personality. And apparently that change had a far-reaching effect, because he’d sure been snagged and reeled in. It seemed that, in the blink of an eye, she’d gone from a wife-in-name-only with a cardboard persona to a three-dimensional woman he found extremely hard to resist. He knew an illogical desire to be near her, to be with her and protect her. His mind raced to curb visions of him holding her close through the night. It was crazy. A mere three weeks ago, the last time he’d been in Dallas, he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

How could he never have noticed how slender she was, how tiny her waist? How perfectly her breasts suited the other contours of her body? When she’d walked around her suite, her hips swayed enticingly, something he should have noted long ago. Had her lips always been so full and luscious? He’d never been physically attracted to her in the past. Yet the thought of her lying in his bed gave him insane ideas of forgetting all about the parameters of their previous relationship and making love to her with such wild abandon it would cause her to forget the names of her lovers and cry out his name instead. Such notions had never entered his mind in the almost five years he’d known her. Why now? Hell, maybe he was the one who needed to see a doctor. He crinkled another sheet of paper in his hand before it joined the others on the floor.

He had to get a grip. Such thoughts were completely ridiculous—outrageous and totally inappropriate under the circumstances. She’d just come from the hospital. Still, when their eyes had met in the private hospital room, for the first time he’d seen honest emotion there, something he hadn’t thought the woman capable of. And against all reason, his body had responded. Then today, in the limo, he’d encountered her sense of humor. Who knew hidden away under all the glamour and glibness Victoria Wellington Masters actually had a sense of humor?

He couldn’t explain why he suddenly wanted to be close to her. He couldn’t rationalize it, but he had to accept the reality of it. That was half the battle. A man couldn’t fight something until he acknowledged its existence. So, okay. Fine. He now found something about her appealing. Quite a few things, in fact. Heaven help him. But he would not give in to this insanity or be suckered into her little games. Despite the way his body reacted every time they came close enough for him to inhale her scent, in spite of his eyes being drawn to her full, enticing lips and the delicate features of her face, he would bide his time, keep those lunatic feelings to himself until she was fully healed, at which time she would be escorted out the door. And all this would be nothing but a bizarre memory.

He wouldn’t ask her to leave, certainly not until she’d fully recovered, even at the cost of his sanity. But he damn sure wouldn’t lay himself open to becoming involved with Victoria. His face was already hitting the front page of the tabloids, the kind that exploited the secrets of the rich and famous. Headlines like Does Her Husband Know About the Other Men? or Who’s Been Sleeping in Victoria’s Bed—Lately? were a dime a dozen. Victoria had sworn she was dating only one man. She had been making an earnest attempt to keep their affair under wraps. Perhaps the tabloids were pulling from old photos. Though it was hard, maybe he should give her the benefit of the doubt.

She kept an apartment in North Dallas. He didn’t know the location but imagined it would be easy enough to find. If returning to familiar surroundings would help her memory, they would definitely make a trip there. Add it to the top of the list. She’d never stayed in this house more than it was necessary to keep up appearances. She’d never shared his bed. There had never been anything about her that had tempted him to want to get closer. Until the damn accident. The sooner she regained her memory and signed those divorce papers, the better.

Pushing the work aside, Wade grabbed the phone, dialing his attorney’s private line before settling back in the black leather chair.

“Wade.” The voice on the other end held surprise. “What’s going on?”

“I think we may have a problem.”

An hour later, Wade hung up. He’d been right. There was no way a document signed by a person with confirmed amnesia would hold up in court. He had no choice but to wait it out and hope her mind righted itself quickly. Hell, that was a scary thought. At least she wouldn’t be going out in public anytime soon, so his main worry was leashed for the time being.

Wade booted the computer and waited for his mail server to appear. He might as well try and get something done. When her memory returned, he intended to be waiting, documents in hand.

* * *

Victoria tossed and turned and plumped her pillow, and still sleep refused to return. The clock on the nightstand said 2:40 a.m., some twenty minutes later than the last time she’d looked. She sat up, knowing she wouldn’t be going back to sleep anytime soon. More than likely it was due to the strange surroundings—even though they shouldn’t be strange to her.

Throwing back the covers, she swung her feet over the edge of the mattress and stood up. Opening the French doors leading onto the terrace, she stepped out into the warm night air. She immediately heard the sound of water spilling over rocks. Soft, diffused light filtered through the trees and highlighted a water feature. Leaning over the railing, she spotted the huge waterfall and a rock-lined stream that wound through trees and out of sight. What castle would be complete without a waterfall? And what had Wade done with the moat?

The soft floral scent of roses mixed with lavender reached her on the light evening breeze. She would have to go down and explore in the daylight. But she didn’t see any chairs or other places to sit in the manicured garden below. Wade needed to get a bench so they or their visitors could sit outside and enjoy the beauty.

A fast knock on the door to her suite pulled her attention away from the calming scene. She headed back inside and was halfway across the bedroom when the door opened. Wade stood in the doorway, his dark hair tousled as though he’d been running his hand through it. He wore sweats and a baggy top that revealed signs of moisture, as if he’d been working out. His mouth was drawn into a tight line, underscoring the fatigue that showed in his eyes. Behind him, two of his security staff stood poised and ready for anything that might go wrong.

Upon seeing her, Wade visibly relaxed.

“Were you just outside?”

“Yes. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I stepped out onto the terrace.” She frowned. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No, it’s fine,” Wade assured her, rubbing the back of his neck. “All the outside doors and windows have silent alarms that are activated overnight. In future, please call security and let them know your intent so they don’t see it as a break-in. Just hit pound six on the landline phone.”

“Oh...okay.” She glanced past Wade’s broad shoulders at the two men. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know or, if I knew, I didn’t remember.”

They smiled and nodded. “That’s not a problem, ma’am.”

When her gaze returned to Wade, that look of surprise was back on his face.

“You seem to be feeling better,” Wade pointed out as the two security men left.

So do you, she thought. At least as far as his attitude went. “I am. I just wish my mind would catch up with the rest of me.”

“I’m confident it will in time.”

“I was looking at your garden.” She pointed toward the French doors. “Below the balcony? It’s beautiful. The sound of the water falling over the rocks is so relaxing. But I didn’t see a bench or any place to sit.”

Wade readjusted his stance. “A bench? No one ever goes back to that area.”

“Maybe it’s because there’s no place for them to sit.”

He looked dumbfounded. “I suppose that’s possible.”

She shrugged. “Why have the flowers and the waterfall if no one ever sees them?”

He stared at her like he’d never seen her before. As though she was an apparition and he didn’t quite know what to do about it.

“Yes. I...see your point.”

But he was frowning.

The character lines framing his mouth were tantalizing. She’d bet he had an awesome smile—so far, she’d caught only slight glimpses of it. She would love to run her hands over those indentations and kiss his full lips. He would be a great kisser. She didn’t know if it was a memory or female intuition, but she knew it all the way to her core. A vortex of heat suddenly surrounded her, making her breath shallow and her heart rate speed up considerably.

“Well, um, I’m sorry I triggered the alarm. I’ll do my best to remember to call the next time.” She needed him to leave so she could turn on a fan.

“Not a problem.” For countless seconds he stood in the same place, just watching her, as if his feet wouldn’t obey his command to leave. Then his brain must have repaired the connection, because he blinked, shook his head slightly and turned toward the door. “Have a good evening.”

“Wow,” Victoria muttered to the empty room when he was gone. She had no idea where she’d found him, but at the moment, despite his earlier anger, she was very glad she had. He still didn’t act like a husband in love with his wife. Maybe it was a case of him not knowing what he should or shouldn’t do regarding her injuries. Surely, as they became reacquainted, that would change.

* * *

The morning light sifted into the room through the sheers drawn across the floor-to-ceiling window. Slowly Victoria stretched, yawned and sat up. Tired of robes and hospital gowns, she wanted her jeans and a comfortable shirt. In the closet she found some designer stretch jeans. No T-shirts, but an ample selection of blouses to choose from. Unfortunately, all the shoes and boots appeared to have four-or five-inch heels. Ugh. She wasn’t up to that and, really, she shouldn’t have to wear such things in her own house. She’d just go barefoot. The decision felt right. After securing her long hair in a ponytail, she ventured into the hall and paused, trying to decide which way to go.

The garden. She’d see if she could find it. She elected to take the stairs instead of the elevator. The grand circular stairway ended in the foyer. Maintaining her sense of direction, she turned and walked toward the back of the house. Surely there was a back door.

And there was. It opened at her touch, and she stepped outside into the morning light. Just ahead of her was a huge pool with a hot tub. It was surrounded by natural stone, banana trees and other exotic plants, which gave it a tropical feel. To the left was the huge waterfall, with more tropical ferns and plants growing at its base. Following her instincts, she rounded a corner of the mansion, and there it was: a floral garden set into an alcove.

It was even better from here than from the terrace. Peeking into the water that formed a stream at the base of the falls, she spotted beautiful gold, red and white fish. She didn’t know how she knew, but these were koi. She knelt down on the thick grass and watched them with delight. Between the concentrated scents of various flowers and the roar of the waterfall, she felt more relaxed than she had since leaving the hospital. Stretching out on the luscious lawn under the rays of the morning sun, she closed her eyes.

* * *

No one had seen her leave. She’d all but disappeared. What was Victoria doing, and where was she doing it? While the housekeeping staff searched inside the house, Wade followed a hunch that led him outside. As he rounded the back corner, he immediately spotted her. Lying on her back in the grass with one arm thrown over her eyes, she appeared completely relaxed. It was a sight he’d never imagined seeing. Victoria was not one to embrace nature in any size, shape or form. Apparently that had changed. At least temporarily. He noted she wore no shoes. Perhaps a call to Dr. Meadows was warranted?

Wade approached slowly, not wanting to startle her, but needing to know she was all right.

“Victoria?”

“Hi,” she responded but didn’t move. “This is so great.”

“We do have chairs.”

“Not out here. Only around the pool. You don’t have a bench, remember?”

She had him there. “No. No bench.”

Using her arms, she pushed herself into a sitting position. “I think over there, under that tree, would be the perfect place to put one.” Intending to scramble to her feet, she winced and grabbed her left side, the site of the bruised ribs. Pushing on, she got to her feet and walked over to the place she’d suggested. “About here. You can see the waterfall and most of the flower beds from this location. It’s shielded by water ferns and banana trees. It’s quiet, private and beautiful. What do you think?”

Wade wasn’t sure what to think. Her behavior was anything but normal for Victoria. “Yes. I agree. It looks like a perfect place.”

He watched as she once again lowered herself to the ground. “Come and join me.” She patted the grass next to her.

Hesitantly, he ambled over and looked around for an alternative place to sit.

“Sitting on the grass won’t hurt you.”

“It won’t help either,” he muttered, then lowered himself to the lawn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat on the ground. She was right: it wasn’t bad. He was surrounded by the smell of rich earth and flowering plants. Images sprang to his mind of the ranch where he and his brothers had grown up. The rolling hills, the unbelievable palette of color in the fall, trail riding for days, campfires at night. It was long ago, but those memories he would keep forever. Their mother had insisted her brood be raised in the country, believing a child needed to feel a bond to the land. His father had reluctantly agreed, so their sons had grown up on a ranch, learning about cattle and beef prices and what it took to operate a spread of enormous size.

He had always envisioned raising a family on the Masters ranch. He pictured his wife loving it there as much as he did and their kids spending their days on horseback exploring the countryside. In his early years, he’d hoped to find someone who shared his heart as well as his dreams. Finally, he’d given up and made himself settle on a wife that shared nothing except what was required in the contract. A facade for all to see.

“Victoria, do you remember any part of your past? Childhood? Adolescence?”

“Intermittently. I have mental glimpses of people and things. Like I recognized the Dallas skyline. I don’t know how I knew it was Dallas. I just knew.” She was quiet for a few moments. “I think I used to work with my hands.” She held them up in front of her face. “They feel...empty.” She sighed.

This was the first he’d heard of such a thing.

“And I’m pretty sure I used to like being outside.”

“That I can assure you was not the case. At all.”

“No?” She frowned and seemed to let the thought roll around in her mind. “I’ve been getting these feelings that just seem...right.” She glanced at Wade. “I can’t explain it better. I wish I could. But being here, outside, feels right.”

Wade didn’t have an answer to that, so he didn’t try. “Sit up and let me see your face,” he said.

The bruising was almost gone and the cut on her lower lip had pretty much healed. “Better,” he stated and was gratified to see her smile. “How do you feel, generally?”

“Good,” she said and looked up into his eyes.

Less than a foot separated them and the temptation to lean toward her and put his lips against hers was overwhelming. What was wrong with him? This was Victoria. How out of place was any temptation to touch her? She raised one hand and placed it against his cheek and he shuddered at the sensation.

“You have such a handsome face,” she whispered. Her gaze lowered to his mouth. Wade could feel himself harden at both her touch and the implication of her words.

Pure lust shot through his body as his mind fought to hold on. As hard as it was to believe, he wanted her.

“Your lips are very...”

Wade’s tentative hold on his self-control grew thinner. His hands cupped her face, and he eased her toward him. For an infinitesimal moment his face remained a breath away, his lips open, ready to taste her. He wanted to kiss her. Hell, he wanted to do more than that. His subconscious mind screamed no! Just behind her moist lips, perfect white teeth guarded the nectar he knew he would find there. He could feel her soft breath on his face, saw her eyes close as if in preparation for his kiss. Heaven help him. Slowly he placed his lips against hers, and the grip on his desire slipped away.

He pulled back and for a few seconds fought to hold on to the control he desperately needed. The raw hunger for this woman rose in his gut. This was insanity. He could not—would not—be attracted to Victoria. He damn sure wouldn’t have an affair with her. She would use it against him eventually, somehow. Yet all he wanted to do was make love to her right there. Near the flowers she apparently loved. Right in front of God and everybody.

Anger at his own weakness overcame the temptation. He rolled to his feet. She was watching him, a look of confusion in her eyes. He took a deep breath and tried for normal.

“Have you contacted your mother?” he asked after clearing his throat.

She frowned. “Yeah,” she whispered, then took a deep breath. “It was awkward. I didn’t know how to address her.”

Victoria claiming she didn’t remember that vile woman could be a good thing. Still, he knew when the memories came back, more than likely her mother would be among them.

“Wade, why did you—”

He cut her off. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“I was going to ask why you stopped.” Victoria lay back on the soft grass. “Please don’t go.”

Pheromones shot through his body, and it took most of his strength to refrain from going back to her. His body was hard, tense. He needed a release. Dammit, he needed Victoria.

“I have a meeting.” And if he didn’t get away from her soon, he would never make it to that meeting.

“That’s too bad. I think you need to relax occasionally. And I think you would enjoy daydreaming in this beautiful garden.”

“Daydreaming doesn’t allow much time for business.”

She looked at him, a smile warming her face. It was the first time he’d seen her without anxiety and pain marring her delicate features. Or the mask of disgruntlement she normally wore. It was the first time a freshly scrubbed and exceedingly beautiful Victoria had actually smiled at him rather than smirked.

“That’s too bad. Really.”

There was absolutely no way Victoria would normally sit outside on the grass under the shade of a tree. Let alone smile about it. He would definitely take it up with Dr. Meadows when they went in for her appointment.

“I’d better get back inside. The meeting is in about half an hour.”

She wiggled to a more comfortable spot on the ground. “Here? At the house?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it about?”

He couldn’t help looking at her to see if she was joking. Victoria had never shown any interest in any aspect of the business, not that he would have let her be privy to much of the information. As long as the contractual installments that kept her here were paid on time, she couldn’t care less how the money was earned. It was odd that she’d asked. But what about this entire situation wasn’t odd?

“We’ve just received all the clearances for the resort we’re preparing to build in the Caribbean. I’m meeting with the architect and the designer to finalize the plans for the cottages.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Fun?” He scratched the side of his face. “I never really looked at it as fun.”

“Might as well like it if it’s something you have to do.” She shrugged. “Thank you for coming to look for me.”

In the five years he’d known her, he had never heard the words thank you leave her mouth. He was pretty sure he’d never heard Victoria say those words to anyone. Her mind-set was one of privilege. She expected people to wait on her, and in her mind that didn’t require any thanks. He could get used to this new Victoria.

He brushed off his slacks and bid her good day, heading back to the door. He couldn’t help but wonder what else would be revealed on her journey to wellness and how much longer this new Victoria would be around.


Four (#ue809a867-ae03-592c-a12b-8c788e31eb05)

Dinner that evening was held in the dining room. The forty-eight-seat table kind of put it in perspective: her husband had yet to discover the world of casual. But the food, when it was served, was delicious. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste of the fresh Maine lobster. “My gosh. This is so good,” she said, not waiting until she’d chewed and swallowed.

“I’m glad you find it to your liking.” There was an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

She nodded her head. “How’d your meeting go?”

“Okay. It was just a formality to finalize plans for the resort. John provided an artistic take on the landscaping, and Mac reiterated the completion dates.”

“Landscaping?” A picture flashed in her mind. A woman sitting in a windowsill, behind her a glorious sunset as she smelled a rose, a soft smile on her lips. Victoria’s head throbbed with the memory.

“Yeah.” Wade took another bite of his lobster. “The final idea seems off to me, but I couldn’t say what is missing or what, if anything, needs to change.”

She nodded, taking a sip from her water glass, hoping the throbbing in her head would go away on its own.

“Would you have any interest in seeing the sketches? Maybe you can spot something we missed. You seemed to enjoy yourself at the waterfall today and had good ideas about putting in some seating.”

Her gaze shot to his face. “Me? You want me to look at them? Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Why not? Unless you don’t want—”

“Yes. I’d really like that.” He was reaching out to her for the first time. He was offering her a glimpse of his world. It was a small step toward rebuilding their relationship, maybe even a few steps in the direction of trust.

They ate in silence for a while. Victoria looked around the massive dining room, at the wainscoting, the three crystal chandeliers above the table and the forty-six empty chairs. It was so formal.

“Do you...we always eat in here?”

“In the past, you’ve preferred it.” His answer was dry, like he didn’t necessarily share her taste for it.

“Isn’t there a kitchen?”

He raised one eyebrow, indicating her question was absurd. “I believe we have one, yes. That would be where the dinner was prepared.”

“I mean, does it have a table?” she pressed. “Something smaller than this? Or a bar? You know, with stools? A place where just a couple of people can sit and eat. A place not so formal.”

Wade looked perplexed. It was as though the idea had never occurred to him or he’d never expected her to make such a request. And now that she’d said it, she wasn’t at all sure why she wanted somewhere unpretentious. After being married to Wade for eight months, she should be used to this type of formality.

“I believe we do.”

She refocused on her plate. “Have you ever had all these chairs filled? Like, at the same time?”

“On occasion.”

“That’s a lot of pizza.”

He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. His lips pursed at the unexpected humor. Clearly, he remembered their previous joking about his family business being a pizza joint.

“It is. And we serve only the best. But no jalapeños,” he said in a serious tone.

“Agreed. Or anchovies.”

“Or anchovies.” He finished taking his bite of food.

“How long have you lived here?”

He patted the linen napkin against his mouth. “It’s actually the family home. My grandfather started the business and did well enough that he had the core building erected before he died. My father later added the west and east wings. It works well for meetings that last several days and provides enough space for guests to stay without going to a hotel. The business associates visiting from other countries especially seem to prefer to stay here.”

“When they’re not here...it’s a big house for just two people. Do you ever get lonely? Do I?”

He shrugged. “You’ve always seemed to manage. I’ve been staying here off and on most of my adult life. I guess I’ve never really thought about it. I have other houses, an apartment in New York, a villa outside of Rome, a flat in London. I stay in whatever area my business requires.”

“So...you’re here now because of me?”

“Primarily.”

Why did that realization make her a bit sad? What important things had he had to cancel because of her?

She glanced at him as he returned his focus to his plate. He was so incredibly male. A tuft of hair hung over his forehead. Combined with the tanned face and dark features and the way he sometimes looked at her, he clearly gave off the impression there was a bad boy inside just waiting for a chance to come out. It was a total contrast to the proper, ever so polite Mr. Masters persona he strove to make people see. It was a look that said he could eat her up and still stick around for dessert. She’d had the same thoughts this morning when he’d kissed her in the garden. That kiss may have been soft and tentative, but it would have quickly grown to hunger he couldn’t hide or easily control. She had to wonder if he ever let go of the rigid restraints he maintained and let raw passion determine his actions. Let the beast inside free. She took another sip of her water, determined to keep her imagination at bay.

“What about your family? Any brothers or sisters? Parents?”

“Both parents deceased. I have three brothers. All younger. Cole is also involved with the business, just a different facet of the corporation. Chance is recently retired from the military and runs the ranch in Calico Springs. Seth lives in Los Angeles. We all try to get together a couple of times a year or whenever possible. Haven’t seen Seth in a couple of years. We stay in touch by phone or Skype.”

“You all grew up here? In this house?”

He shook his head. “No. Actually, we lived on the ranch.” He hesitated as if wondering whether or not to say any more.

“Please go on.”

“My...mother came from a ranching family. She learned early on to respect the land, and she was determined her sons would grow up in the same environment. Apparently Dad finally agreed, so, just before Chance was born, he built a house on some land his family owned. We attended the local schools and grew up checking out the wide-open spaces on the back of a horse. Seth is a half brother and was born and raised in LA.”

Wade rested his elbows on the table and linked his fingers. His gaze was directed at the far wall, but Victoria sensed in his mind he was a long way from here.

“Mom and Dad both believed a person should work for what they had and were determined for all of us kids to know the value of a dollar. Since we were living in Mom’s playground, those lessons were learned by mending fences, feeding the livestock, taking on the general responsibilities of ranch life. Later, after college, Dad introduced each of us one by one to the world of business. One day led to another and here we are.”

“You’ve never gone back? To the ranch?”

“I did for a while. But it’s been close to a year.”

“I think you should go,” Victoria encouraged. “I think you should take a week—or more—and revisit your memories. See if you can still saddle a horse.”

Wade laughed and the glitter of amusement shone in his eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“What...” She cleared her throat. “What did I do while you were away or working?”

Wade laid his fork down on the plate and seemed to give her question some thought. “I don’t think you did...anything.”

“That’s crazy.” She frowned, placing her fork across the gold-rimmed plate. “I had to do something. I mean, no one can just sit around and breathe day after day.”

Wade shrugged. “You went shopping. Went to the hairdresser. Visited your friends. I really don’t know.”

Now it was Victoria’s turn to look shocked. “I didn’t work? Didn’t help a charity? Arrange garage sales? Dig holes? Nothing?”

“Victoria, we didn’t really see a lot of each other. On average, I spend more than half the year traveling. When I’m not out of the country, I’m in meetings or working in my office in the city, where I also keep an apartment. Occasionally we do attend a social gathering together, but even then, you have your acquaintances, and I have mine.”

She was speechless. She couldn’t imagine living the life he described. It sounded horrible. For a married couple, it just didn’t make any sense. Somehow she knew within herself she was not the type to hide away day after day in this big house. And Wade had to take some downtime and enjoy life occasionally. No one could live as he’d described for years on end without paying for it physically, if not emotionally. Everybody needed time to relax. To laugh. To dream.

As she watched him eat his dinner, she realized she wasn’t seeing a man who was happy and content with the world in which he lived. She was seeing a man who marched to the drum his current life demanded. He was staying well away from any friends or relationships that would take his time away from his business, including his own wife. The question was why. He was polite to a fault, handsome, rich...and very much alone. Why had he married her? It was like the dog that finally caught the car it had chased for years. Now that he had it, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

It was just sad. Period. All of it. How he rarely returned to his childhood home and had little to no personal contact with his brothers except, she assumed, in emergencies. Flying around from one country to another and never realizing a true home... Maybe she could plan something to get his family together.

She took one last bite of her dinner, laying the fork on her empty plate. “This was excellent. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

An older man came into the room and politely inquired if either one would care for dessert. Victoria placed her hand over her stomach and declined. “I’m stuffed.”

“None for me either, Jacob. Dinner was good, thank you.”

The man nodded, took the plates and left the room.

“Do you feel up to looking at those design renderings?”

“Sure.” Her headache still had a dull throb, but it was slightly better than earlier today. She refused to let it keep her from sharing this time with Wade.




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