“You must not go back to sleep, pedhaki mou. Not yet.”
The man’s voice slid across her skin, leaving warmth in its wake. Carefully, she turned to face this stranger—or was he? Was he someone she knew? Who knew her? Could he be the father of the child nestled below her heart?
Her hand automatically felt for her rounded belly as her gaze lighted on the man who’d spoken to her.
He was a dominating presence. Tall, lithe, dangerously intent as his amber eyes stared back at her. He wasn’t American. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of her thoughts. She should be demanding to know who he was and why he was here, and yet all she could muster was the knowledge that he wasn’t American?
“Our baby is fine,” he said as his gaze dropped to the hand she had cupped protectively over her abdomen.
She tensed as she realized that he was indeed staking a claim. Shouldn’t she know him? She reached for something, some semblance of recognition, but unease and fear were all she found.
“Who are you?” she finally managed to whisper.
Something flickered in those golden eyes, but he kept his expression neutral. Had she hurt him with the knowledge she didn’t know him? She tried to put herself in his position. Tried to imagine how she’d feel if the father of her baby suddenly couldn’t remember her.
He pulled a chair to the side of the bed and settled his large frame into it. He reached for her hand, and this time, despite her instinct to do so, she didn’t retract it.
“I am Chrysander Anetakis. Your fiancé.”
She searched his face for the truth of his words, but he looked back at her calmly, with no hint of emotion.
“I’m sorry,” she said and swallowed when her voice cracked. “I don’t remember…”
“I know. I’ve spoken to the doctor. What you remember isn’t important right now. What is important is that you rest and recover so that I can take you home.”
She licked her lips, panic threatening to overtake her. “Home?”
He nodded. “Yes, home.”
“Where is that?” She hated having to ask. Hated that she was lying here conversing with a complete stranger. Only apparently he wasn’t. He was someone she had been intimate with. Obviously in love with. They were engaged, and she was pregnant with his child. Shouldn’t that stir something inside her?
“You’re trying too hard, pedhaki mou,” he said softly. “I can see the strain on your face. You mustn’t rush things. The doctor said that it will all come back in time.”
She clutched his hand then looked down at their linked fingers. “Will it? What if it doesn’t?” Fear rose in her chest, tightening her throat uncomfortably. She struggled to breathe.
Chrysander reached out a hand to touch her face. “Calm yourself, Marley. Your distress does you and the baby no good.”
Hearing her name on his lips did odd things. It felt as though he was speaking of a stranger even though she did remember her name. But maybe in the madness of her memory loss, she’d been afraid that she’d gotten that part wrong, and that along with everything else, her name was a forgotten piece of her life.
“Can you tell me something about me? Anything?”
She was precariously close to begging, and tears knotted her throat and stung her eyes.
“There will be plenty of time for us to talk later,” Chrysander soothed. He stroked her forehead, pushing back her hair. “For now, rest. I’m making preparations to take you home.”
It was the second time he’d mentioned home, and she realized that he still hadn’t told her where that was.
“Where is home?” she asked again.
His lips thinned for just a moment, and then his expression eased. “Home for us has been here in the city. My business takes me away often, but we had an apartment together here. My plan is to take you to my island as soon as you are well enough to travel.”
Her brows furrowed as she sought to comprehend the oddity of his statement. It sounded so…impersonal. There was no emotion, no hint of joy, just a sterile recitation of fact.
As if sensing she was about to ask more questions, he bent over and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Rest, pedhaki mou. I have arrangements to make. The doctor says you can be released in a few days’ time if all goes well.”
She closed her eyes wearily and nodded. He stood there a moment, and then she heard his footsteps retreating. When her door closed, she opened her eyes again, only to feel the damp trail of tears against her cheeks.
She should feel relief that she wasn’t alone. Somehow, though, Chrysander Anetakis’s presence hadn’t reassured her as it should. She felt more apprehensive than ever, and she couldn’t say why.
She pulled the thin sheet higher around her body and closed her eyes, willing the peaceful numbness of sleep to take over once more.
When she woke again, a nurse was standing by her bedside placing a cuff around her arm to take her blood pressure.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she said cheerfully as she removed the cuff. “I have your dinner tray. Do you feel up to eating?”
Marley shook her head. The thought of food made her faintly nauseous.
“Leave the tray. I’ll see to it she eats.”
Marley looked up in surprise to see Chrysander looming behind the nurse, a determined look on his face. The nurse turned and smiled at him then reached back and patted Marley’s arm.
“You’re very lucky to have such a devoted fiancé,” she said as she turned to go.
“Yes, lucky,” Marley murmured, and she wondered why she suddenly felt the urge to weep.
When the door shut behind the nurse, Chrysander pulled the chair closer to her bed again. Then he settled the tray in front of her.
“You should eat.”
She eyed him nervously. “I don’t feel much like eating.”
“Do you find my presence unsettling?” he queried as his gaze slid over her rumpled form.
“I—” She opened her mouth to say no, but found she couldn’t entirely deny it. How to tell this man she found him intimidating? This was supposed to be someone she loved. Had made love with. Just the thought sent a blush up her neck and over her cheeks.
“What are you thinking?” His fingers found her hand and stroked absently.
She turned her face away, hoping to find relief from his scrutiny. “N-nothing.”
“You are frightened. That’s understandable.”
She turned back to look at him. “It doesn’t make you angry that I’m frightened of you? Quite frankly, I’m terrified. I don’t remember you or anything else in my life. I’m pregnant with your child and cannot for the life of me remember how I got this way!” Her fists gripped the sheet and held it protectively against her.
His lips pressed to a firm line. Was he angry? Was he putting on a front so as not to upset her further?
“It is as you said. You don’t remember me, therefore I am a stranger to you. It will be up to me to earn your…trust.” He said the last word as if he found it distasteful, and yet his expression remained controlled.
“Chrysander…” She said his name experimentally, letting