The Mistress: The Mistress\Wanted: Mistress and Mother (4 page)

BOOK: The Mistress: The Mistress\Wanted: Mistress and Mother
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Chapter 4

T
he next morning, Marley sat across from
Chrysander as he watched her eat breakfast. He nodded approvingly when she
managed to finish the omelet he’d prepared, and he urged her to drink the glass
of juice in front of her.

Despite her anxiety and uncertainty, it felt good to be taken
care of by this man. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure of her place in his world.
He was solicitous of her, but at the same time he seemed distant. She wasn’t
sure if it was out of deference to her memory loss, and he had no wish to
frighten her, or if this was simply the normal course of their relationship.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled
absently. The idea that this could be ordinary bothered her. Surely she hadn’t
desired marriage with someone who treated her so politely, as though she were a
stranger.

And yet, for all intents and purposes, they were strangers. At
least he was to her. A flood of sympathy rolled through her. How awful it had to
be for him to have his fiancée, a woman he loved and planned to marry, just
forget him, as though he never existed. She couldn’t imagine being in his
shoes.

He’d watched her closely through breakfast, and she knew she
must be broadcasting her unease, but he said nothing until he’d cleared their
dishes away and taken her into the living room. He settled her on the couch and
then sat next to her, his stare probing.

“What is concerning you this morning, Marley?” Chrysander
asked.

His gaze passed over her face, and his expression left her
faintly breathless.

“I was just thinking how perfectly rotten this whole thing must
be for you.”

One eyebrow rose, and he tilted his head questioningly. He
looked surprised, as though it were the last thing he’d expected her to say.

“What do you mean?”

She looked down, suddenly shy and even more uncertain. He
reached over and touched his fingers to her chin. He slid them further
underneath and tugged until she met his gaze.

“Tell me why things are so horrible for me.”

When put like that, it sounded ridiculous. Here was a man who
could have, and probably did have, anything he wanted. Power, wealth, respect.
And yet she presumed to think it was so terrible that his mousy fiancée couldn’t
remember him. It would have been enough to make her laugh if she hadn’t felt so
forlorn.

“I was trying to imagine myself in your place,” she said sadly.
“What it feels like when someone you love forgets you.” His thumb rubbed over
her lips, and a peculiar tingling raced down her spine. “I think I would
feel...rejected.”

“You’re worried that I feel rejected?” Faint amusement
flickered in his eyes, and a smile hovered near the corners of his mouth.

“You don’t?” she asked. And did it matter? She hated this lack
of confidence. Not only was her memory of this man stolen, but any faith she had
in who she was to him had been erased, as well. She hated the idea that she
couldn’t speak of their relationship frankly because she worried that she might
make errant assumptions and look a fool.

Embarrassment crept over her cheeks, leaving them tight and
heated as he continued to stare at her.

“You cannot help what happened to you, Marley. I don’t blame
you, and neither do I harbor resentment. It would be petty of me.”

No, she couldn’t see him as petty. Dangerous. A little
frightening. But not petty. Was she afraid of him? She shivered lightly. No, it
wasn’t him she was afraid of. It was the idea that she could have been so
intimate with a man such as him and not remember it. She couldn’t imagine ever
forgetting such an experience.

“What happened to me, Chrysander?” A note of pleading crept
into her voice. Her hands shook, and she clenched them together to disguise her
unease.

He sighed. “You had...an accident,
pedhaki
mou.
The doctor assures me your memory loss is only temporary and
that it’s imperative for you not to overtax yourself.”

“Was I in a car accident?” Even as she asked, she glanced down,
searching for signs of injury, bruising. But she had no muscle soreness, no
stiffness. Just an overwhelming fatigue and a wariness she couldn’t explain.

His eyes flickered away for the briefest of moments. “Yes.”

“Oh. Was it very serious?” She raised a hand to her head,
feeling for a wound.

He gently took her hand and lowered it to her lap, but he
didn’t relinquish his hold. “No. Not serious.”

“Then why...how did I lose my memory? Did I suffer a
concussion? My head doesn’t hurt that way.”

“I’m very glad your head doesn’t pain you, but a head injury
isn’t what causes memory loss.”

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him in
puzzlement. “Then how?”

“The physician explained that this is your way of coping with
the trauma of your accident. It’s a protective instinct. One meant to shield you
from harmful memories.”

Her forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows came together. She
pressed, trying to struggle through the thick cloak of black in her mind. Surely
there had to be something, some spark of a memory.

“Yet I wasn’t harmed,” she said in disbelief.

“A fact I’m very grateful for,” Chrysander said. “Still, it
must have been very frightening.”

A sudden thought came to her, and her hand flew from his in
alarm. “Was anyone else hurt?”

Again his gaze flickered away from her for just a second. He
reached up and recaptured her hand then brought it to his lips. A soft gasp
escaped her when he pressed a kiss to her palm. “No.”

She sagged in relief. “I wish I could remember. I keep thinking
if I just try a little harder, it will come, but when I try to focus on the
past, my head starts to pound.”

Chrysander frowned. “This is precisely why I do not like to
discuss the accident with you. The doctor warned against causing you any upset
or stress. You must put the incident from your mind and focus on regaining your
strength.” He placed his other hand over her abdomen and cupped the bulge there
protectively. “Such upset cannot be good for our baby. You’ve already gone
through too much for my liking.”

She tugged her hand free and placed both of hers lightly over
his hand that was still cupping her belly. Beneath his fingers, the baby rolled.
He snatched his hand back, a stunned expression lighting his face.

Her brows furrowed as she gazed curiously at him. His hand
shook slightly as he returned it to her stomach. His fingers splayed out, and
once again her belly rippled underneath his palm.

“That’s amazing,” he whispered.

He looked so completely befuddled that she had to smile. But on
the heels of that smile came confusion. He acted as though he’d never
experienced their baby kicking.

She licked her lips and cursed the fact that she couldn’t
remember. “Surely you’ve felt it before, Chrysander.”

He continued his gentle exploration of her stomach. It was a
long moment before he spoke. “I was often away on business,” he said with a note
of discomfort. “I had only just returned when I learned of your accident. It had
been...a while since we’d been together.”

She let her breath out, relief sliding over her and lightening
her worry. If they had been separated for a time, it would explain a lot.

“I don’t suppose it was the homecoming you expected,” she said
ruefully. “You left a woman who knew you, who was pregnant with your child and
planned to marry you. When you came back, you faced a woman who treats you like
a stranger.”

She glanced down at her finger automatically as she spoke. No
ring adorned it. She frowned at it before she quickly looked back up, trying to
make the uneasiness disappear once more.

“I was only happy that you and our baby were unharmed,” he said
simply. He eased away from her, shifting his body until more space separated
them. His gaze still drifted back to her belly as though he was fascinated with
the tiny life making itself known there.

A buzz sounded, and Chrysander stood and strode to the call box
on the wall. Marley strained to hear who he was speaking to, but she only heard
his command to come up.

He returned to her and sat down, collecting her hands in his.
“That was the nurse I hired to look after you. I have a meeting that I can’t
miss in an hour’s time.”

Her eyes widened. “But Chrysander, I don’t need a nurse. I’m
perfectly capable of remaining here while you attend to your business.”

His grip on her hands tightened. “Humor me,
pedhaki mou.
It makes me feel better knowing I’m
leaving you in capable hands. I don’t like to think of you having need of
anything in my absence.”

A smile curved her lips at his insistence. “How long will you
be gone?” She hated the hopeful, almost mournful quality to her voice. She
sounded pathetic.

He stood as the sound of the elevator opening filtered into the
living room. “Stay here. I’ll return with the nurse.”

Marley relaxed against the back of the couch and waited for
Chrysander to return. His attentiveness was endearing, even if unnecessary.

A moment later, he walked back in with a smiling woman dressed
in slacks and a sweater. She beamed at Marley as she stopped a few feet away
from the sofa.

“You must be Marley. I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Mrs.
Cahill, but please do call me Patrice.”

Marley couldn’t help but return the older woman’s smile.

“Mr. Anetakis has discussed his wishes with me, and I’ll do my
utmost to make sure you’re taken care of.”

Marley pinned Chrysander with a stare. “Oh, he did, did he? May
I ask what his instructions were?”

Chrysander made a show of checking his watch. “Her instructions
are to make sure you rest. Now, I’m sorry, but I must go out for a while. I’ll
return in time for us to have lunch together.”

“I’d like that,” she softly returned.

He leaned down and stiffly brushed a kiss across her forehead
before turning to walk away. Her gaze followed him across the room, and she
realized how clingy she must look.

With effort, she dragged her stare from his retreating back and
looked up at Patrice. “I’m really quite fit,” she explained. “Chrysander makes
it sound like I’m a complete invalid.”

Patrice smiled and winked. “He’s a man. They’re famous for that
sort of thing. Still, there’s no harm in a little rest, now is there? I’ll see
you to bed, and then I’ll see about making us a nice cup of tea for when you
wake.”

Before Marley even realized what was happening, the other woman
was effectively shuttling her toward the bedroom. She blinked when Patrice
tucked her solidly into bed and arranged the covers around her.

“You’re quite good at this,” Marley said faintly.

Patrice chuckled. “Getting my patients to do what they don’t
want to is part of my job. Now get some rest so that man of yours is happy with
me and with you when he returns.”

Marley heard the light sounds of Patrice’s shoes as she walked
from the bedroom. When the sound faded away, Marley glanced to the fireplace on
the wall opposing the foot of her bed. Chrysander had started the flame the
evening before, more for coziness than actual warmth, because the apartment
suffered no chill. Even the floors were heated, which she loved, because she
hated to wear shoes indoors.

The thought hit her even as a burst of excitement swept over
her. What else could she remember about herself? She concentrated hard, but the
effort caused her head to ache again.

The baby moved, and she slid her hand down to rest over her
swollen abdomen. The movement eased the discomfort in her head, and she smiled.
Despite the temporary loss of her past, she had a future to look forward to.
Marriage and a child. She just wished she could remember how she’d gotten to
this point.

With a sigh, she resigned herself to living in the moment.
Hopefully her memories would return and fill in the gaps.

She dozed, and when she awoke, she looked at the clock by her
bed and saw that an hour had elapsed. She felt refreshed and drew away the
covers, wanting to get up and move around. The constant rest was starting to
make her restless.

Though she was dressed in soft pajamas, she nevertheless
reached for the silk dressing robe lying at the foot of her bed. Tying it around
her body, she walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, where she
found Patrice.

She smiled at the other woman and assured her she was feeling
well when Patrice prompted her. Patrice nodded approvingly, and as if sensing
Marley’s need to be alone, excused herself.

Marley took the opportunity to explore the spacious penthouse.
She walked from room to room, acquainting herself with her home. Only it didn’t
feel
like home. She could see Chrysander in the
style and makeup of the decorations and furnishings, but she couldn’t see
anything that made her feel as though she’d made any mark on the apartment. For
some reason, that discomfited her. She felt like a guest intruding where she
didn’t belong.

When she entered the master suite, her frown grew. Chrysander
had placed her in what apparently was one of the guest rooms. She hadn’t given
any thought when he’d put her to bed and seen to her comfort in the extra
bedroom. She’d been too overwhelmed, too focused on trying to process
everything.

She retreated, unable to shake the thought that she was somehow
trespassing. Next to the master suite was a large office. It was obviously
Chrysander’s work space. The furnishings were dark and masculine. Bookcases
adorned the back wall, and a large mahogany desk sat a few feet in front of
them. Her feet brushed across a plush rug as she walked farther into the middle
of the room.

A laptop rested on the desk, and she sat down in the leather
executive chair in anticipation of browsing the Internet. She only hoped he had
a wireless connection since she could see no evidence of a cable line connected
to the computer.

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