I see a man standing over me, his face so harshly beautiful and intense that I catch my breath at the smile that curves his thin lips.
“Hi, gorgeous. About time you woke up.”
“Why?”
His smile slips a little when I look down and frown. There’s a baby on my chest.
“Ducky.”
“Why are you calling me Ducky? My name’s Shaw. Shaw Mallory. Where am I? Was I in an accident? I told Linda we should have taken a freaking cab,” I mutter, looking back down at the kid snuffling at my boob, her little bow-shaped mouth screwing up when she gets nothing but hospital gown and air.
“Er, is this your baby? How did I get here? Could you call Alec?”
My mind is abuzz, skipping from one thing to the next, and I feel so panicked. I feel my lungs squeeze tight, strangling my choppy breaths in my chest.
“Baby, ssh, no don’t panic, Ducky. Just take a deep breath and I’ll explain everything. Jesus. Just…just, can you hold the baby for a minute? I need to…”
Her settles the squiggly bundle into my arms and paces to the door before turning and coming back, his mouth hitting mine in a gentle kiss before pulling back and meeting my gaze.
“Everything will be just fine, baby. I swear. Just hold lovey for a minute while I go…I’ll be back in a tick.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me with the baby and a whole lot of awkward terror. I don’t move, sitting frozen the whole time while that pink little cherub snuggles deeper into my chest and closes her eyes, her face the picture of innocent bliss.
Something, I feel something hammering at the edges of my mind, and the terror from moments before returns so forcefully I feel myself tremble as a muted cry and tears spill free.
There’s something I need to do, say…something important that I have to tell…whom? I can’t remember, and each time I try to remember, I feel the answer floating farther away, slipping from my grasp. I feel so anxious and urgent that it’s all I can do to keep the baby clutched tightly in my arms, her slight weight and baby smell managing to calm and settle me somehow.
“Hello, little girl. Aren’t you a cutie pie. What’s your name, huh? Won’t tell me?” I ask, stroking a finger over her baby soft cheek. “How about I call you…Angel. Yeah, you look like you could be an angel. Maybe an Angelica? Or an Angelique?”
I spend long minutes talking to her and tracing her features, and the longer I do, the more I feel the urgency settle and fade away. I may not know how I ended up in a hospital bed, or why a devastatingly handsome stranger was standing over me and handing me his child, but right now I don’t care.
I feel better than I have since my mind came back to life, and for some strange reason, I feel a kinship with the snuffling snoring baby, drooling all over my breast.
Long minutes pass before I become aware of a tingling sensation and look up to see him in the doorway, his blue eyes sparking with something I can’t define.
Jesus, this guy really is hot. Is he married? Must be since this is his kid, no denying. Her little nose promises to be just as straight and regal as his own, and I see the same jaw and eye shape.
Too bad, because I could really go for losing my innocence to a guy this perfect. Unfortunately, I’m probably destined to go back to my dorm and the hours of studying—
“Where’s Linda? Is she okay? God, we really shouldn’t have been driving after she drank so much, but she wouldn’t listen. Did you call Al…no wait, he’ll just worry. This baby is really cute. Why are you in my room?”
My mind is whirling a mile a minute, and I feel that same urgency hit me again. When he steps in and reaches for Angel, I snarl and turn away, cradling the little head tighter to my chest.
God, why are my boobs so sore?
“Er, could you call a nurse please?”
Something warm and fluid is running down my chest, and I cringe, almost freaking at the thought of blood—
“Shaw, please calm down and pass me the baby.”
Oh! I don’t want to but…it’s his child. I have no right.
“I, can I hold her just a little longer? She’s so warm, and I, I feel less afraid with her here. Please!” I beg, leaning in to smell her dark hair before placing a soft kiss there.
“Shaw, I—”
“No, you’re right. You should take her. I think my stitches must have ripped, and I don’t want her getting bloody.” I sigh, placing Angel in his arms. “Would you call the nurse?”
I look down at my chest and frown in confusion when I see a wet stain across my left breast, no red in sight.
“What the heck?”
Not caring about modesty, I pull the gown away a little and look down, choking on a gasp at what I see. A milky fluid is pouring from…my nipple?
“Uh, I think something’s wrong. I…uh…I need a doctor. I…what the hell?”
When I look up, it’s to see him closing his eyes and breathing deeply before reopening them to focus on me.
“You’re breasts are leaking milk, Shaw. Milk that is meant to feed your daughter. Our daughter.”
I pass out because it’s all too much to take in without freaking the hell out. I’m twenty years old! How the heck can I have a kid? And that man? He’s mine?
Chapter Twenty One
Cam
“I had to tell her! She was hyperventilating.”
I’m yelling at the doctor, fully aware that the poor man is probably right and not to blame for the terror I am currently feeling, but I need to vent so desperately that it’s all I can do not to start howling my outrage at the world.
My Ducky has no memory of me, lovey, Rob, Mum, Dad…she remembers nothing past the night of her twentieth birthday when she and that college chum of hers had gone drinking and then gotten into a car.
They’d ended up scraping the thing on the side of a hydrant that night, but had been no worse off for the escapade and had likely only massive hangovers as a reminder.
Bottom line? Shaw has some sort of amnesia thanks to her head striking one of the stairs when she’d fallen, and the doctors have no idea when she’ll regain her memory. If she ever does.
Instinctively, some part of her knows that the baby is hers; she hasn’t relinquished the kid since reawakening and pinning us with a terrified owlish blink, and I’d even watched her nurse beneath a towel, her face softening in awe.
Now they’re telling me that it might be a good idea to let her go back to America while her mind heals. Not fucking likely! Never. She already thinks that we’re married and that I am her adoring husband. We might as well just…plonk along as best we can for the time being.
It also has the added benefit of allowing me to get to know her and to allow her to get to know the me that I should have shown her from the beginning.
If she never regains her memory, it wouldn’t matter. I’ll just love her exactly as I should have all those months, and hope she comes to feel the same.
“You have to understand, Mr. Stone. Her mind is fragile. If you push too hard, it could set her back,” the doctor says, shaking his head wearily. “Unfortunately, we can’t say why her memory is gone. Her injury is not one that would lead to amnesia. All we can surmise is that the shock of falling in her condition must have been so great she sought comfort in forgetting.”
Because I know her, I understand why that can be so. Shaw is a loving, fiercely protective woman. If she’d thought in that split second of falling that she would lose the baby, I have no doubt that she would have retreated as far and fast as her mind would let her.
I just need to find a way to get her back.
I’ll still cherish her for the rest of my days even if she never remembers, but I need to at least try so that I can grovel the way I need to. She needs to know how sorry I am for everything. And then I need to prove to her that I am a good bet. That I can make her happy in every aspect of our lives together. Not just in bed.
“She knows that Angelica is hers, and she thinks I’m her husband. We’ll go from there and hope for the
best.”
God, I love that name. Seems Shaw had named our darling even not knowing that she was hers.
“As you wish. Just do not under any circumstances leave her alone. She needs reassurance especially if you’re taking her home to a place she doesn’t recognize.”
“Trust me, I will be glued to her side at all times.”
“But your company—?”
I turn to Mum and Dad and shake my head.
“Trey can take over for the foreseeable future. Ducky needs me now, and I won’t let anything take me from her. The company be damned.”
I understand their shock. I’ve spent ten years building it and would never have once thought to let a woman interfere with my responsibilities, but for her…nothing is more important to me now. Not after watching her half bleed to death at the bottom of those stairs.
Another ten minutes are spent letting the doctor know how little of a damn I give about his opinions before we leave his office and start walking back to my darlings.
“There’s still the matter of who pushed her,” Dad finally says, his face going hard as stone.
“No worries. Kent assured me that he and the cousins will find the culprit. Until then, no one will step into the house unless they’re family.”
“Right. I’ve already spoken to Millie, and she and Molly will be down in a week or so after we’re settled,” Mum says, sighing tiredly. “I want to know who did this, Cameron. And I would like to be there when you and the lads ‘speak’ to that person.”
So bloodthirsty.
“Dad, talk to your wife.”
I don’t have time to talk Mum back off the ledge of vengeance that she’s perched on right now. If left unattended, the woman will start sniffing around like a bloodhound, and there’s no telling what she will do if she ever finds the person responsible.
She’s a lady, but I’ve seen her angered, and believe me, when that happens, the lass from Blackpool comes up swinging and ready to fight to the death.
“Oh no. Sorry lad, but I married a woman who knows her way around a good fight. I like my balls just where they are thanks. Now stop scowling and smile. You’ll scare Ducky bloody half to death the way you look right now.”
I obey, but only just and smile wider when we enter the room to find her pacing slowly, Angelica mewling contentedly as she hums softly to her.
“You ready then, baby?”
I’ve been using any and all endearments lately in the hopes that she’ll feel more secure with me the more I show her this easy affection. It’s working by the looks of her radiant smile, and I feel another piece of my heart break off and land at her feet.
“Yup. Angel had breakfast, and now she’s just about ready for a nap. Have you called Alec yet?”
She keeps asking, and I keep putting her off because I’m afraid that if her brother comes over he’ll somehow convince her to go home with him and that I can’t have. I also don’t want him telling her the truth about Angelica’s parentage because it gives me the sweats just thinking that she’d take my daughter and I will never see any of them again.
“Yeah. He’s out of town on an internship at present, and I know how leery you are of disturbing his studies, baby. Don’t worry. As soon as he’s free, I’ll get him over for a visit.”
That does the trick, as always, and I release a sigh when she smiles at Mum and Dad and starts chattering about Angelica.
“You ready to go home, baby?”
Her smile is bright enough to light up the room when she turns to me and nods. “Yeah. Home.”
Is it too early to tell her that my home is now hers and the little bundle cradled to her heart? I want to say it so badly, and yet I’m unable as her eyes take me in, devoid of her previous fire and unshakable shyness.
I want my woman back.
Chapter Twenty Two
Shaw
It’s been exactly ten weeks since I woke up in that hospital bed and learned that not only do I have a husband, no fiancé who I am on the verge of marrying, but that I’m a mother, too.
It feels weird and yet as comfortable as slipping on an old pair of my favorite sweats. I spend my days walking the gardens with Margery, or the ever-present Cameron, or trying to jump-start my memories.
Cameron has cautioned me against that because they don’t want me stressing right now and setting myself further back. It’s also not good to be stressed while I’m breastfeeding and trying to stay sane with the feeding schedule, and the still sore muscles in my stomach that have yet to heal remind me to tell you what a caesarean does to your body. Horror story!
So yeah, I’m trying, really trying, to keep myself from worrying over much and keeping myself on an even keel with everything going on around me.
It’s weird and strangely intoxicating to go to sleep cradled against Cameron’s chest when I don’t remember anything about meeting him or how we fell in love.
God, I would have thought that my life goals would have vetoed even the idea of dating, never mind falling for the guy and moving an ocean away from home, but apparently I loved him so much I’d left it all behind to follow him here. Strange and yet a thrilling love story that I keep filling in with every day that passes.
They won’t tell me anything because the doctors want me to remember it all on my own, but that doesn’t stop me from imaging the scenes and embellishing with a romantic streak that’s, quite frankly, embarrassing in its girlishness.
I imagine him seeing me across a crowded room and falling so madly in love with me that he couldn’t bear another moment without telling me how gorgeous I am. And then I imagine him sweeping me off my feet in an epic love story that makes the Titanic look pale in comparison.
Sometimes I find myself wondering what the sex would be like. Cameron is a very vital, muscular, totally sexy specimen, believe me, I get to sleep on all that hotness, so I sorta think that we must be really hot together if he’s still playing with my boobs while he sleeps.
One time I’d woken hot and bothered with one of his hands rubbing my…bits and another squeezing my breast, his huge erection drilling onto the crack of my ass, and I’d almost given in to the need to turn around and see where this would take us.
Unfortunately, my boob had a mind of its own—anytime it feels stimulation it starts leaking like a freaking geyser—and I’d had no choice but to wiggle out of his arms and go do something about the milk river.
Now I’m just….
Is it okay for me to be super-attracted to a guy I don’t remember? I mean, he is the father of my baby. And my body remembers him, even if my mind doesn’t, and I’m…needy.
I spend as much time fantasizing about his hands and mouth and…other parts as I do anything else. The only thing stopping me from doing anything is debilitating shyness and the fear that my body is so weird after the baby that I’m considering a girdle to keep that hot mess in check.
“You’re looking flushed, Ducky. Come here. Are you feverish? We should get you to the doctor.”
“Stop, Cameron.” I growl, slapping at his hands. “I’m fine. Seriously.” Just hot in the crotch with nowhere to go, I think silently, taking in his casual slacks and the tight polo shirt he seems to favor.
“Sorry. I’m just—”
“Being way too attentive right now. I’m eating. The doctor gave me the all clear yesterday and my tummy is only just tender. Everything’s healed okay and I feel good. Only my brain isn’t cooperating, but the thing is so stubborn I’m not surprised.”
I want to ask him a million questions, like how I feel, who was there, and…just general things about our life together. But it’s a waste of breath and just so frustrating that I’m focusing on the here and now instead of stressing him out. The guy gets manic if he thinks I’m upset.
“I’m just concerned. You’ve been absentminded all morning. Talk to me, baby. Please.”
We’re in the sitting room between our room and the nursery, our usual walk having been put on hold with the rain that’s batteri
ng the windows. Margery and Victor are out, searching for some elusive antique, and Molly and Kent are back home, planning their wedding.
So it’s just the two of us and Mrs. Tokes, the nanny Cameron insisted on. She’s downstairs waiting for Angel to scream her imperious summons.
“Shaw.”
Oh gosh.
My cheeks heat, and I scrunch my nose, feeling lost and vulnerable as I look at him and his earnest face, his eyes all but begging me for something.
“Sex. I’ve been thinking about sex,” I squeak, blushing when his eyes drop to my breasts and go lower before coming back up to meet mine. “I mean, we’re engaged, and we have a baby, so I’m assuming we liked, er, doing that, but the thing is I don’t even remember it. I was a virgin and…”
I blush again when he clears his throat and drops his eyes, hiding that deep blue gaze from me.
“Were we…did we like, you know?”
“Very much, baby. In fact, the night you fell, you teased me half to distraction before skipping off on that hunt,” he admits, bringing his hooded gaze back to mine. “We’re great in bed. Fantastic in fact.”
“Then why, um, why don’t you ever touch me? You buss my lips quickly and then…God, this is so embarrassing.”
“It shouldn’t be. Not between us. We belong to each other,” he says with a growl, making me shiver at that commanding tone. “You can tell me anything.”
“Okay. Uh, do you still find me attractive after…?” I wave at my soft belly. “Because I read up about it on the internet and they say that a lot of men struggle to adjust to the changes that their significant other’s body goes through, and I mean, I’ve looked in the mirror.”
“No. That is not a problem you should ever worry about. You’ll always be sexy to me. You brought my child into the world with that body. It will always be perfect to me. Always.”
Phew!
“So then, do you think we could maybe try to be together? I’d really like to know, you know, if you want to do that. With me. Sometime.”
I look up from my clenched hands to see him up and pacing, his tented slacks making a clenching need unfurl deep in my belly. It’s strange, but as unfamiliar as a lot of things are, Cameron and the things I feel when I look at him feel, perfect, as if my body recognizes its mate and wants him back, memory or no memory.
LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Page 21