Sleeping Love (7 page)

Those black eyes sharpened again. He took a step towards her. She took two 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?

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 around 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.

Maybe the idea is for me to remember all the good bits and discard the rest such as his affair. Yes, maybe the necklace had been another bribe.

Her thoughts trailed off as she watched a hand reach out and snatch the necklace from her throat. She cried out with pain flinching away. She was in her study, trying to back away. A man’s tuxedoed arm reached out and pulled her towards him. His other hand reached out and punched her face, knocking her to the floor. Her head hit the wooden floor with a thud leaving her dazed. She tried to get up, but the man held both her arms and was pushing her back down, straddling her body. No matter how hard she fought him, his strength was too much for her own. She’d never felt fear like it, a fear of being raped. As she felt the skirt of the velvet dress being lifted, the memory shut down flat, a sudden blank calmness seeping into her mind.

‘Sabrina, Sabrina, are you all right?’

She looked up to find Raoul cradling her in his arms on the floor. She was shaking uncontrollably. She rested her head against his bare chest and held on to him for dear life.

She put her hand to the necklace that suddenly felt heavy around her neck, the image of it being torn from her throat echoing again and again in her mind. She pushed her body closer to Raoul, hiding her face against the smooth, taut muscle, shaking her head. It took several minutes for her fear to subside. He held her, whispering gentle words of reassurance in French. His soft musical tone soothed her raw nerves.

Her thoughts asked a million questions, about her attacker, about Raoul, about the house. Her conscience was warning her about being close to anyone. She could not see her attacker’s face, but she was aware that she knew the man very well.

Isn’t that what they say? You often know your rapist beforehand.

But Raoul’s arms held her so tightly, so protectively, she wanted to melt against him. She could feel his strength against her hand, as she pushed at his chest to compose herself.

‘I’m not sure I want to see him.’

‘No, I can understand that. But I—we, the police need to know who hurt you so we can stop him from doing it again. He’s still out there. I want you safe, Sabrina. God knows I don’t want you to hurt like this. If I could swap places, make it all go away, I would. But we can’t, and we have to face it. I will be with you every step of the way.’

Raoul swept his hand softly through her hair, a hundred emotions were swirling in his eyes. Love, anger, protection, frustration, all fighting for supremacy.

‘Dr. Martin is coming in an hour. He might be able to help you enlarge that memory.’

‘I’ll get ready.’

Raoul stopped her from moving. His hands didn’t want to relinquish their possession, and truth be known she didn’t want him to let her go. There was warmth and safety in his embrace that she found hard to tear herself from.