‘No you aren’t,’ he said calmly as though trying to diffuse the growing row. ‘But you are ill and in danger. I will keep you confined to this house until I know who hurt you. I won’t. . . I can’t lose you again. He is still out there, and now you have resurfaced, I have a feeling he is going to come for you again. I am going to do whatever I have to, to protect you. I let you down last time, Sabrina. I won’t do it again.’
Sabrina stared at Raoul. Fierce determination blazed hotly in his eyes. Far from believing the old Sabrina weak and allowing Raoul to control her, she was now beginning to realise how well she had dealt with such a formidably strong character. It was wonderful he cared so much and was so protective. No one had ever shown her such love. He made her feel cherished. Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared up at the pain in his eyes. She wanted him for a husband more than she would have liked, but she couldn’t afford to fully trust him. Despite all of his protestations of love, he might still be her attacker. She’d lost her memory, and at that point in time, she didn’t really know him or what he was capable of doing. He did have a temper, and those eyes of his burned hotly with anger and frustration.
I really hope I am wrong.
‘You really think he would try again?’ she asked considering the possibility with alarm.
‘Yes, I do. I have always thought it was somebody close to us. Someone we both knew well.’
‘Intuition?’
He smiled.
‘Something like that.’
Sabrina gave a sigh. She wanted more answers.
‘What else do you know?’ Sabrina persisted.
Raoul studied her closely for a moment and then abruptly moved away to pick up his cup of coffee from the tray.
‘No more. I think we should wait until you have been examined by a doctor before we discuss this any further,’ he told her, taking a gulp of coffee. ‘I don’t want to cause any more damage to your memory.’
Sabrina groaned.
‘I want to know more. Don’t keep anything from me. I have every right to know what happened to me before I disappeared,’ she loudly snapped.
‘And I had every right to know that you were planning to confront that maniac who was stalking you. But you kept everything from me. No, you will wait,’ he informed her with a heavily bitter tone.
‘Right, fine then I am leaving.’ Sabrina walked around to the other side of the bed and picked up her suitcase to toss it on the bed and begin to pack. Raoul snatched the case off the bed, but Sabrina was quick to hold on to it. They stood engaged in a small tug of war. It was almost comical.
‘I have told you I am not letting you leave,’ Raoul thundered at her.
Sabrina leaned over towards him.
‘Yeah, well, if you don’t tell me, I will find someone who will. Francine looks ready to burst with what she knows. I am sure with enough persuading I will get it out of her. Then there’s the police. I am sure they are going to want to talk to me at some point. I will ask them. You won’t be able to keep them away from me. What are your frightened of, Raoul? Are you frightened I might find out that you had something to do with all of this?’ she shouted yanking at the case.
Raoul had pushed her too far, acting as though he held all the cards to her memory and life.
‘You will not dictate to me how and when I will recover my memory,’ she almost screamed such was the strength of her frustration. Raoul’s eyes narrowed to a sharp point, but despite the sudden tenseness in her shoulders, Sabrina was determined to stand her ground and not be afraid of him. Raoul pulled hard on the suitcase and took possession of it. He threw it to the floor then took two steps towards her. His tall muscled figure towered over her small form. She titled her chin defiantly at him.
No way am I going to back down on this, so get used to it, Raoul.
She put her hands on her hips and braced herself for what he might do next.
‘I am only going to say this once more, Sabrina, and I don’t want it raised again,’ he said in a smooth voice that was doing its level best to keep calm and not erupt. ‘I have never hurt you. I have never wanted to hurt you, and I did not beat you, rape you or kidnap you. Do you understand me?’
Sabrina stared into his eyes, looking for something, anything that would confirm her reluctant suspicions that he was lying, but she could see only pain and hurt. Maybe she was wrong after all, but that nagging small doubt that she should be careful around Raoul refused to go away. A part of her did not trust him whether she liked it or not. Slowly, she lowered her eyes.
‘I understand. So convince me it wasn’t you. Let me find out what happened. This is my memory, Raoul. It’s not yours to rule.’
She heard him take a breath to calm his anger and then curse under his breath in French. She raised an eyebrow and gave him an indignant, impatient look.
‘Fine. There were signs of a struggle in your study. The police found out later that some drunken idiot heard you arguing with a man there,’ he confessed.
‘Why was I in my study and not with you at the party?’ she quizzed confused.
Raoul sighed obviously uncomfortable with their conversation.
‘You were avoiding me,’ he said flatly staring at the picture on the table she had picked up earlier.
Sabrina furrowed her brow.
‘Why would I do that? Did we have a row or something?’
Infuriatingly, Raoul turned and walked to a door at the other end of the room, giving her a tantalising glimpse of the way his jodhpurs moved in perfect moulded unison with his tightly muscled thighs and buttocks. To her annoyance she found herself staring at the magnificence of it all. She could tell by the gentle lift of his lips from the side that he knew she was watching. Damn it.
He turned on a light to reveal a large walk in closet. Sabrina followed him to insist he explain. He paused looking at the rail holding his large collection of neatly ordered suits and shirts.
‘We were having many rows. You thought I was having an affair.’
‘You were having an affair?’
Sabrina heard her voice rise in disbelief. The imaginary world of wedded bliss he had dazzled her with despite her doubts crumbled inside her head, leaving her bitterly disappointed that he had proved her right. She dipped her head.
How could I have thought for one moment . . .?
‘Sabrina . . .’ Raoul held her gaze.
‘No. I said, you thought I was having an affair. I see you still cannot accept that you were wrong.’
‘I am not stupid. I must have a good reason to believe you were having one,’ she retorted.
He shook his head. His attention turned to the opposite rail on which an array of women’s suits and dresses hung in order of colour.
It’s been seven years, and they are all out of date. Yet you still kept them. You couldn’t let me go . . .
Tears gathered in her eyes once more as she watched him lift out a red dress. Quickly, she wiped at them so they were undiscovered.
‘I loved you in this. It always showed off your curved figure to perfection.’
Sabrina’s eyes widened with surprise, as she watched his eyes sweep longingly over her form.
‘It’s good to see that you haven’t lost any of your curves,’ he said with a wide grin, looking down appreciatively at her ample cleavage peeping through her camisole and loosened black silk robe.
Sabrina snatched the dress from him.
‘You were having an affair?’ she repeated with disgust.
‘I have just told you I wasn’t.’
‘Oh, and I suppose your word is supposed to be good enough?’
‘Yes. It is,’ he said flatly.
‘Maybe there are some memories of our life together that you don’t want me to remember,’ she challenged.
‘You know, Sabrina. You are going to have to start trusting me at some point.’
‘I’m not sure that will ever happen.’
Those black eyes sharpened again. He took a step towards her. She took tw
o steps back and inwardly cursed herself for her fear. He gave her a look of disbelief and reached past her, brushing the side of her breast to pick up one of the many suits that lined his side of the closet. Sabrina felt foolish and went to fold her arms across her chest, only she found she was still holding the red dress. Frustrated, she thrust it back on the rail. Raoul winced.
‘The Sabrina I knew was a very ordered person and hated her clothes not being on the right section of the rail. If you start mixing things up, when you remember who you are you’ll be mad as hell,’ he grinned. ‘Dresses go on the rail near the window.’
Sabrina gritted her teeth together, wishing she could slap him and get away with it. He grinned again and looked down at her foot that was inadvertently tapping against the floor with irritation. He gave a laugh and leaned over to graze her lips capturing a kiss before she could protest.
‘You haven’t changed a bit, Sabrina. Je t’aime.’
I’m going to have a shower,’ he announced, as she followed him back into their room.
‘We need to talk,’ she almost shouted, out of her wits that he would not tell her more and deflected any attempt she made to extract information about the state of their marriage before her kidnap and memory loss.
He tossed the suit on the bed and began lifting his sweater up over his shoulders. He threw it on a chair. Bronze toned muscle rippled and stretched across his chest, forcing Sabrina’s eyes to widen with appreciation. Another wicked grin lighted his lips at her reaction. She glared, disliking his blatant manipulation of the power he held over her, and turned away from the provocative sight of him undoing the zip on his jodhpurs.
He kicked off his boots and then pulled down the riding trousers. With a surprised gasp she turned around, determined not to give him the satisfaction of watching him undress. She folded her arms again and then undid them quickly remembering his teasing.
‘Care to join me in the shower?’ he asked with an amused tone.
‘I don’t think so, do you?’ Sabrina answered still with her back towards him.
Liar. Damn it.
‘How can I shower with a man I hardly know?’ she snapped, more than annoyed by her sudden urge to throw caution to the wind and take up his tantalising invitation.
‘That’s a pity. I did so enjoy it when we showered together,’ he teased.
Sabrina forgot herself and turned around to deliver a rebuke.
Raoul stood before her in nothing more than a pair of tight Calvin Klein’s and moved in close. It was too close. Heated desire radiated between them. It sent her heart into a frantic rhythm when he dipped his head to brush her lips with his own.
‘Stop glaring, Sabrina. What did you tell me once? Yes that’s it. If the wind changes, your face will stay like that.’
He laughed and moved away as her eyes narrowed into short jagged points. Before he reached the door of their bathroom, he slipped off his underwear, raising a shocked gasp from Sabrina. Thankfully, he didn’t see the longing look she gave his naked form when he kicked the door closed behind him.
* * *
She turned her attention back to the room and decided to investigate its contents for clues to the life she did not know. She started with the dressing table. It was still covered with make-up, cream and other assorted goodies that would have been way past their best. All the makes were the same as she used in the present. With discomfort she realised that the Sabrina she was today, wasn’t very different to the original seven years ago. Her identity was splintering like her image in a broken mirror. Perhaps it was time to take off the mask and stop pretending.
If it was only that easy.
She looked back at the bottles. Her heart leapt just as it had done in the walk in wardrobe. It was as though Raoul had left everything as it was for her coming back. He’d never given up hope.
The small CD rack caught her attention. It had to be hers. She was never without music. She grew excited.
You can tell a lot about a person by the CD’s they buy and the music they download. Maybe I can find out some more about the old Sabrina.
On careful inspection, she found many of the CD’s she already kept in her car and house in London or downloaded on her I-Pod. There was no conforming style. They ranged from classical and pop to rock and heavy metal. They were her CD’s all right, a mixture of everything. She pulled out Vivaldi’s Four Seasons and went hunting for the CD player that seemed to be secretly concealed somewhere in the room. She found it tucked inside a disguised cabinet not far from the TV, which was also similarly cloaked. She inserted the CD and listened to the music drift around the room. She returned to the dressing table to brush her hair and stared at herself in the mirror.
Who am I?
It happened instantaneously. One minute she was looking at her confused reflection in the mirror, the next she was greeting guests with Raoul, and then she was watching masked dancers swirl around the chequered floor again. The memory was so real she felt as though she was re-living it. She could see Raoul talking to a woman who kept touching him, a hand on his arm, the brush of her fingers along the lapel of his evening suit. Even as he courteously backed away from the woman to talk to another guest, all she could feel was anger, suspicion and hurt. She turned on her heel. She was wearing that dress, the velvet one in the portrait, the one he’d lovingly bought her on a business trip. She remembered wondering if it was a bribe to keep her quiet, while he carried on his affair. Then her memory revealed that she knew about his affair and who was stalking her every move that night. She was going to ask for a divorce and confront her stalker alone at the party.
‘Sabrina.’
The concerned voice brought her right back to the present with a thud. Startled, she turned to find Raoul standing at the door in nothing more than a towel. His hair was wet and slicked back. Moisture glistened on his skin giving his lightly tanned body a seductive sheen. He looked concerned, protective. She turned her eyes away embarrassed, attempting to avoid direct contact with his own as he strode over.
‘You were staring into space looking vacant. Are you all right?’
He touched her forehead with the back of his hand as though checking for a temperature. She did look hot and flushed.
And it’s not just from that memory. Do you have to stand over me half naked tempting me to distraction?
‘I remembered being at the party. It was so real it felt like I was there again. I want to remember more.’
‘I think you should wait until we see Dr. Martin.’
‘No. It’s the music, that’s what helped me remember. It was playing when the guests were arriving. Please, you have to help me.’
He gave her one of his famous stern looks and then smiled as he moved away from her to retrieve something from a concealed closet.
He sat on the floor crossing his long legs in front of him whilst he played with the combination on a safe. The towel tied precariously around his waist opened, threatening to expose more than she was ready for at that moment. She looked at him wistfully.
Can this hunky, sexy man, really belong to me? Maybe he doesn’t, maybe it is all a dream, and I am about to get a nasty wakeup call any minute. Maybe I share him with that woman I saw in my memory.
She felt her teeth close together and grit at the mere thought.
But if by some miracle you are only mine, what can you possibly see in me? I am small and curved, not like all those super slim, elegant French women littering the ball in my memory. He looks as though he should be kept on a leash. He is far too sexy, too lethal for any woman’s good sense to be let out on his own. He must have had an affair. Too many female admirers to choose from to keep you confined to one woman.
Sabrina turned back to the mirror, disappointment shining in eyes that blinked the colour of sapphires.
‘Here, you were wearing this the night you disappeared. I found it on the floor of your study. I had it repaired for your coming home.’
He was standing behind her draping a necklace aroun
d her neck. It was made of beautiful droplet emeralds surrounded by cut diamonds.
‘Raoul, is this real?’ she asked taking a breath.
He looked affronted. He cupped her shoulders and stared at her in the mirror surrounding her with his intoxicating scent of masculinity she appeared to have no defence against.
‘It’s beautiful, Raoul. I can’t believe you bought me such an extravagant gift.’
It was gorgeous. She shuddered to think how much it cost. Thousands wouldn’t have been close. She twisted and turned her neck watching the diamonds and the gemstones catch in the light. She looked at herself in the mirror disbelieving what she was hearing and seeing. It was like waking up to find out you were a crown princess in a fairy-tale. Raoul was fast mending those walls of her imaginary wedded bliss.
Sleeping Love Page 5