opened again, this time to admit a white-coated doctor, addressing him in the same language he’d used with the nurse. Portuguese was the language spoken in Brazil; Karen knew that for a fact. She felt trapped in a never-ending nightmare.
The fight went out of her suddenly. She subsided on to the bed, unable to summon the strength of either mind or body to protest when the doctor produced a syringe. Sleep would be a welcome release from the turmoil in her head.
She opened her eyes again to soft lamplight, and for a moment imagined herself safe in her own bedroom, having fallen asleep reading as she often did.
Only it wasn’t her room, and it hadn’t been a dream, because the same man was seated at the bedside.
‘How are you feeling now?’ he asked.
Her voice came out low and ragged. ‘Afraid.’
Face expressionless, he said, ‘Do you know me?’
Karen shook her head, too demoralised by the realisation that the nightmare hadn’t ended to summon any semblance of spirit.
‘So what exactly do you remember?’ he asked.
‘I’m Karen Downing,’ she said. ‘I’m twenty-three years old, and I share a flat in London with a friend who works for the same firm. My parents were killed in a plane crash four years ago.’
That memory alone was enough to pierce her fragile control. She swallowed on the lump in her throat, recalling the agony of those days, weeks, months it had taken her to come to terms with her loss.
‘This much I already know,’ Luiz Andrade returned. ‘What appears to have happened is that your mind has somehow blanked out the past three months of your life. The three months you’ve spent here in Brazil as my wife.’ He paused again, as if gathering himself. ‘We met at the hotel where you were spending a holiday. We were married within the week.’
‘That’s impossible!’ Karen burst out. ‘I’d never…’
She broke off, biting her lip. If she couldn’t remember, how could she be sure of what she might have done? But three months! Three whole months missing from her life! It didn’t seem possible!
‘How did I get to Rio?’ she asked, forcing herself to calm down a little. ‘I couldn’t afford a holiday in Brazil on my earnings.’
‘You told me you had won a sum of money on your lottery, and decided to see something of the world outside of Europe while you had the opportunity.’
‘So you didn’t marry me on the assumption that I was rich,’ she murmured, trying to make sense of the story.
The strong, sensual mouth slanted briefly. ‘It was your beauty that attracted my eye, your personality that captured my heart.’ He registered the expression that crossed her face with another humourless smile. ‘You looked much the same way the first time I made my feelings clear to you—as if you doubted your power to stir a man to such a degree. Only when we made love did you begin to believe in me.’
Warmth rose beneath her skin as her eyes dropped involuntarily down the length of his body to the lean hips and long legs clad in close-fitting white jeans, the stirring deep down in the pit of her stomach no fluke of imagination.
‘You were a virgin,’ he went on softly. ‘That in itself would have been enough to seal my fate. It was fortunate that you felt for me too, because I would not easily have let you go.’
It had to be true, Karen thought desperately. As he’d said before, what possible reason could he have to lie? If only she could find even the slightest kink in the blanket cloaking her mind!
‘You said we were married within a week of meeting?’ she ventured.
‘Just five days, to be precise. For me, it would have been sooner, but there were necessary formalities to be observed. We travelled to my home in São Paulo the following day.’
Karen’s brows were drawn in the effort to recall, but there wasn’t even a glimmer. ‘You’re saying I never went back home at all?’
‘There seemed no need when you had so little to return for. Your friend was contacted, and your place of work.’
‘But my things!’
‘Most of which you had with you. The apartment apparently was rented. The few items you did express a desire to have were despatched by your friend.’
Karen absorbed the information in silence for a moment, trying to imagine Julie’s reaction to the news. ‘It must have been a tremendous shock for her,’ she said at length.
‘I imagine it was. You’re still in touch with her, if you feel the ring you wear isn’t verification enough.’
Karen raised her hand slowly to gaze at the wide gold band, shaking her head in numb acceptance. ‘I believe you. I have to believe you! It’s just so difficult to take in.’
‘It must be.’ Luiz leaned forward to ease his position, lips twisting as she flinched. ‘You have nothing to fear. Retribution is farthest from my mind.’
Karen felt her heart jerk. ‘Retribution?’ she got out. ‘For what?’
It was apparent from the expression in the dark eyes that he regretted having said what he had. ‘There are matters perhaps best left alone for the present,’ he declared. ‘The problems are many already without adding to them.’
‘I want to know what you meant,’ she insisted, every nerve in her body on edge. ‘I have a right to know!’
The hesitation was brief, the lift of his shoulders signifying resignation. ‘Very well. You came to Rio in the company of a man named Lucio Fernandas, with whom you had apparently been carrying on an affair. I followed you in order to bring you back, but the accident happened before I even reached the city. Perhaps fortunately,’ he added on a harder note, ‘or I may have been driven to measures that would have done none of us any good.’
Karen had difficulty finding any words at all. An affair? She’d been having an affair!
‘Are you sure?’ she asked faintly.
The firm mouth acquired a cynical slant. ‘Why else would you have run away with the man?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. And then with a flash of spirit, ‘But if it is true, why on earth would you have wanted me back?’
‘What is mine remains mine.’ The statement was all the more compelling for its lack of force. ‘There has never been, nor ever will be, a divorce in the Andrade family—no matter what the provocation.’
Karen felt a sudden shiver run down her spine. She made a valiant effort to regain control of herself.
‘So where is he, this Lucio Fernandas?’
‘Vanished, like the coward he is!’ The contempt was searing. ‘You were alone when the medics reached you.’
‘Reached me where?’
‘At the road outside the airport where you were hit by a
